


fire & blood.

by fairy___milly



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, King Auguste, M/M, hennike is a good mom :), kind of a medieval au i guess?, laurent is basically daenerys, the regent is there but no abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26229049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairy___milly/pseuds/fairy___milly
Summary: Akielos gives Auguste three dragon eggs as a coronation gift, seemingly fossilized for the past 500 years.in which Auguste is a king, Damen is a knight in shining armor, and Laurent has dragons.
Relationships: Auguste & Laurent (Captive Prince), Damen & Kastor (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 60
Kudos: 217





	1. prologue

Laurent woke before first light on the morning of Auguste's coronation. There was nothing to be done before the servants came to help him get ready, so he sat by the windows and read the same page of his book over and over without comprehending. His mind was darting from subject to subject. Excitement and anxiety chased each other in his head.

When the door finally opened, it was not a servant who entered, but his mother. He did not hear her approach until she was standing beside him and petting his hair. 

"Laurent," She said softly, "it's time to get dressed." 

Laurent yawned as he stood from the window ledge. He had not been sleeping well in the weeks since his father died. 

Hennike chuckled, "Sleepy, cheri?"

"No, maman," Laurent rubbed his eyes, "I am awake." 

"Good," She opened his wardrobe and took out the outfit that had been waiting for him for months, "Today is a very special day, Lo." She laid the outfit on the bed and smoothed the fabric, then beckoned Laurent closer. 

"I know," He replied as he began to undress. Hennike collected his nightclothes from him and folded them neatly. 

As she helped him into his new clothes, she said, "I remember your father's coronation. My mother thought it would be good for me to visit Vere, but my father thought the alliance was too uncertain. He was probably right, of course, but I went anyway. I was so excited, I dreamed about it for months. That was the first time I ever saw your father." 

She sounded a bit sad, so Laurent said, "Maybe Auguste will meet his wife today." 

Hennike laughed a bit at that, which made Laurent smile. He liked the sound of her laugh, the effortlessness of it. It filled his heart with butterflies. She lifted her fingers away from his laces for just a moment to ruffle his hair, saying, "Or maybe you will." 

Immediately, Laurent scowled. He complained, "I don't want to be married. I don't want to have children."

"Of course you don't. Not now, at least," She finished lacing his sleeve, "You are still a child yourself." 

"I don't want them ever," Laurent argued. Children were annoying and loud. He did not care for them much. Auguste and his mother were always trying to force him to make friends with the noble children, but Laurent never saw the appeal. He was nearly ten, after all. He was much too old for their foolish antics; he would rather read by himself.

"Oh, but Lo, what if I want grandchildren one day?" Hennike laughed at the expression on his face, "Won't you have some for me?" 

"Auguste will have plenty," Laurent argued.

Hennike shook her head, still smiling in good nature, "Alright, cheri. I will be content, then." She finished with the laces up to Laurent's throat and straightened triumphantly, "Oh, look at you! You look just like a prince out of a fairytale." 

Laurent did not think that was entirely true, but he smiled nonetheless. Hennike ushered him to sit down in front of his mirror, then went to retrieve his hairbrush. In this time, Laurent stared at himself. His hair was messy from sleep, but his clothes were indeed nice. They were a rich shade of dark blue with silver embroidery lacing in complicated patterns. The cuffs and collar of the jacket were a darker shade of blue, and the laces were stark white against the dark fabric. 

Hennike began brushing his hair and humming to herself. It was the same song she sang to him when he was little, and still sometimes sang when he had bad dreams. Laurent let himself relax into her touch and watch through the mirror as she arranged his hair out of his face. 

"It's getting long," She said lightly, "I like it." 

Laurent smiled at her through the mirror. He then asked, "Will Auguste still have time to play chess with me?"

Hennike arranged his hair into a neat braid as she said, "Of course, cheri. But he will be more busy than usual. You might not get to see him as often as before. Everything will be okay, though. He loves you very much. That can never change."

Laurent nodded.

"Being king is a grand responsibility," His mother continued, "and it is not easy. He will have a lot of work to do. One day, when you're a bit older, maybe you can help him. You are very clever, he would be lucky to have you."

Laurent sat a bit straighter, "He would?"

"Yes, of course!" Hennike pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, "Now, come along. We have just enough time to get a little breakfast before the ceremony. I may have convinced the cooks to make your favorite pastries today, just for you."

Laurent's eyes sparkled, "Really?" His mother always claimed he had too much sugar for his own good.

She just laughed and said, "Yes, really. It is a special day." Then she ushered him out of his seat and said, "Come on, now."

+

The grand ballroom was decorated with vases of blue and white flowers and banners with Auguste's sigil painted onto the fabric in careful, practiced lines. The room was already packed full of people, despite them arriving perfectly on time. Laurent wandered with his mother through the crowd of nobles, who each turned and bowed to the Queen-Mother.

"Your brother is speaking with the embassy from Akielos," Hennike said in Patran, pointing to where a small group of men dressed in traditional Akielon clothes stood. She nudged him forward, "You should go say 'hi.' It is important to make a good impression on our new allies." 

"I don't want to," Laurent replied, clutching his mother's hand.

"Laurent," She scolded lightly, "it will make Auguste so happy." 

Laurent could not argue with that, so he took a deep breath and released Hennike's hand. She smiled as he walked across the ballroom floor to stand beside his brother. 

Auguste held his head high and wore a casual smile on his face. He was wearing the ivory and gold of an ascending king, and Laurent could not help but stare. The courtiers around them seemed to be experiencing the same reaction. Auguste commanded the room without saying a word.

"Laurent," Auguste called, his smile warming when he saw Laurent approaching. He then looked back to the Akielons and said, "Exalted, let me introduce you to my brother, Prince Laurent." 

Laurent walked to his brother's side. As he approached, he took in the people Auguste had been speaking to. The older man wore a crown of golden laurel leaves around his head. His regalia was stark white and his cape blood red. His skin and hair were dark brown, and he held himself with the easy authority of someone who was never afraid of losing it. When the man's eyes set on Laurent, he smiled.

"Laurent, this is King Theomedes of Akielos," Auguste said with a nod to the man, "and his sons, Prince Kastor and Prince Damianos of Akielos."

Laurent bowed to the king, then looked to his sons. Kastor, the older, was a couple years older than Auguste. He barely spared Laurent a glance. Where his father was easy, relaxed grace, Kastor was boredom and disinterest. The younger, Damianos, was a boy of about fifteen. He held his back straight and had a wide smile that cut dimples into his cheeks. He had the body of a fledgling swordsman-- all the awkwardness of an adolescent with the muscle build of someone older. 

"Hello, your Grace," Laurent said to the king. 

"Hello, Prince Laurent," The king replied. His voice had a happy lilt to it. He talked to Laurent as if he were a child, not a prince. Laurent tried not to be annoyed at this. King Theomedes continued, "I am glad to make your acquaintance. Your brother speaks highly of you." 

"Thank you, your Grace," Laurent's cheeks heated.

Auguste set a hand on Laurent's shoulder, and Laurent had to make a conscious effort not to lean into his touch. It would be un-princely of him to look so childish in front of a foreign king.

Damianos smiled brightly. Kastor barely acknowledged them.

+

The crowning ceremony was long. Laurent stood at his place between his mother and his uncle and tried all he could not to fall asleep on his feet. His eyelids drooped as the Chief Counselor read from the Book of Laws in a monotonous voice. 

Auguste was kneeling with his hands outstretched, receptive.

At first, Laurent had thought it was too vulnerable a position for a king-to-be, but as the ceremony continued, he understood the importance. A king was only a man, after all, and that ought to be clear during the crowing.

The Counselor called on the gods to aid Auguste in his rule. Laurent knew Auguste would need no such help, but he kept his opinions to himself. Every so often, he looked up to see his mother's face and her warm smile. Her eyes were glassy, her face fiercely proud. When he turned his head to see his uncle, none of those things were present.

When the Counselor finally came to the end of the speech, he closed the book, and the two attendants moved to their places. They eased the robe from Auguste's shoulders and replaced it with the cloak of the king.

Next, Auguste took up the orb and sceptre, and the crown was placed on his head.

It was a ceremonial crown, more ornate and ostentatious than anything anyone would think of wearing on a regular day, but it made Auguste look every inch a king. It sat high on his head, full of jewels and gold, and sparkled under the light.

Auguste stood, and the Counselor announced, "All hail Auguste II, king of Vere and Acquariat. May he bring prosperity and peace. May he serve the people and the gods. May he live long and reign well."

The entire room knelt, and when Laurent lowered his head, his circlet slipped forward. He cursed quietly as he caught it and shoved it back into place. When he looked up, Auguste was hiding a laugh. His eyes were glinting with pride and mirth.

Laurent smiled back.

+

After the crowning ceremony came the gifting ceremony.

Laurent sat at his brother's left hand, and their mother sat at Auguste's right. When Laurent came of age, he would take the spot at his brother's right. Beside Laurent was his uncle, who had not said a word since the crowning ceremony. Laurent leaned close to his brother to peer over his shoulder.

The Patrans gifted Auguste a parrying dagger.

"To symbolize that we will always be at your defense, your Grace," King Torgier said with a small bow.

Laurent looked at the knife. It was too delicate to be any good in a fight. The hilt was decorated with gemstones and ivory carvings, and the blade was not sturdy enough to really be any help parrying a sword. It was beautiful, though. The blade was polished until it was reflective.

Auguste thanked them with a graceful nod and a smile.

"It is beautiful," Auguste said, then he turned to Laurent and slid the box across the table, "I will pass it on to my younger brother, my current heir, whom I defend with my life. It is good for a young man to have a blade, and he ought to have some token of his Patran heritage."

Laurent smiled and accepted, though he did not really want it. It was barely more than a toy.

Vask gifted Auguste a cloak, which Auguste graciously passed to their mother, who he said would wear it better than him. That had earned him a laugh across the room.

The free city of Delpha gifted Auguste a case of their finest wine, aged a century. Auguste had laughed heartily and claimed this gift for himself. The room filled with laughter to match.

Auguste was a natural leader, Laurent was realizing. He was not too young to see the way the other men looked at him, like he were some kind of young god. Laurent was inclined to believe that the gods themselves had created Auguste with the express purpose of making him king.

Their father had not had this type of respect. Their father was more a warrior than a king.

Akielos gave their gift last. Prince Damianos set the box in front of Auguste, then bowed and backed behind his father. King Theomedes, with his easy grace, said in a voice like polished steel, "I hope you take this gift as a symbol of our alliance, your Grace. Though it is new, may it be resilient, long-lasting, and worthy of admiration."

There were some nods and murmurs of agreement across the room, and Damianos stepped forward again to take the lid off the box.

The inside of the box was lined with black velvet. Nestled in the center were three stones, from what Laurent could see. Gray and speckled like eggs. They were far larger than any eggs Laurent had ever seen-- larger even than Auguste's hands.

Though Laurent saw nothing special, the room reacted with shock and excitement. Auguste leaned forward and said, "This is a great honor, your Grace. Vere will treasure them."

Laurent stared at the strange eggs. He longed to reach out to touch it, but the box was shut and moved aside before he could even attempt.

King Theomedes and Prince Damianos ushered back to their seats, and Laurent leaned over to whisper into his brother's ear, "What are they?"

"I will explain later," Auguste said quickly.

Laurent sat back in his seat with a huff.

"They are dragon eggs," His uncle answered from his other side.

Laurent turned, and his uncle beckoned him closer so he could speak lower, "When the last of the dragons died, their eggs hardened. Solidified like stones. Those eggs are five hundred years old-- the last remnants of the Eaporian Empire."

Laurent nodded. He remembered his lessons about the Eaporian Empire, the predecessor of Vere and Akielos. It had been centuries ago, when the two nations and Delpha were unified as one powerhouse. In those days, the lands were full of dragons, or so it was said. Some thought the dragons were old gods in disguise, others thought they were just beasts.

Laurent could not get the egg out of his head for the rest of the day.

+

Dinner came with festivities. Dancers and musicians took to the ballroom stage, but Laurent could barely hear them. His mind was occupied with thoughts of dragons.

"Tell me more about dragons," Laurent said to his uncle, who sighed in annoyance in between sips of wine.

"Ask your brother."

"Auguste is busy being king," Laurent argued, barely sparing a glance to his brother, who was in deep conversation with King Torgier. Laurent continued, "I want to know about dragons. You know about them, you can tell me stories."

His uncle glanced from Auguste, then back to Laurent and muttered, "Alright, then."

Laurent smiled brightly.

"The most important thing to know about dragons is that they are vicious creatures," His uncle said in a low voice, the kind his mother might use when reading a spooky story to him. Laurent listened, wide-eyed as his uncle continued, "Their fire burned hotter than anything men can recreate. It is said they stole this fire from the depths of the deepest hell."

Laurent could only stare.

"And still, they were killed by men," His uncle finished with a shrug.

"Uncle," Laurent chided, "that is not a good story."

His uncle simply said, "Some things do not make for good stories."

"Why did the men kill the dragons?" Laurent asked. He was swinging his feet, which dangled above the ground.

"The dragons burned entire villages in mere minutes," His uncle replied.

"What if Emperor Eapor had made the dragons his friends?" Laurent asked, "Maybe he could have gotten them to stop burning people."

His uncle chuckled, "I doubt it is possible to be friends with a dragon, child. A sweet thought, though." Then a few moments later, his uncle mused, "If he had managed to... create an alliance, if you will, with the dragons, imagine the sort of power he would have had."

Laurent tried to imagine, but he could not see what his uncle was talking about.

"If he had been able to direct them to which villages he wanted burned," His uncle elaborated, "he would have ruled far more than just Akielos and Vere."

"And Delpha."

"And Delpha," His uncle nodded, "No, Emperor Eapor would have ruled the world, if he had the help of dragons. He would have been invincible. A god."

"Don't be silly," Laurent stifled a yawn into his hand. The moon was rising outside, and his energy was leaving him. Laurent said, "Men cannot be gods. The dragons were gods."

"And yet they died," His uncle replied, "If the mortal dragons were gods, there is nothing to say a mortal man cannot be one. All he would need is power. But power is difficult to come by in the era of kings. You must be born with power, or you must take it." His uncle's tone became bitter toward the end.

Laurent looked out toward the ballroom again, where his brother had moved to dancing with an Akielon girl.

"We are lucky that Auguste was born with power," Laurent said, "He will wield it well."

With a tight smile, his uncle replied, "We'll see."

+

Laurent dreamed of dragons that night.

+

Auguste took Laurent to visit the storeroom where the eggs were being kept, but only after hours of begging.

"You are restless," Auguste said with a little laugh as the guards let them into the room, "I had no idea you were so interested with dragons. I can have some books brought to you, if you would like to learn more about them."

Laurent nodded quickly, "Yes, please."

Auguste smiled and ruffled his brother's hair.

Orlant, one of Auguste's personal guard, lifted the lid for them.

Laurent could have stared at the eggs for hours. He wanted to touch them, but when he reached forward, Auguste warned, "They are more delicate than they look and far older, too. I think it is best you do not touch them."

"Will they ever hatch?" Laurent asked.

Auguste smiled, "No. They're petrified. Fossils, really. They'll never hatch."

"Oh." Laurent tried not to sound disappointed.

Auguste set his arm around Laurent's shoulder and said, "Oh, but that would be something, wouldn't it? Seeing dragons flying about?"

"Were they pretty?"

"They were monsters," Auguste said with a little warning in his tone. He spoke this way sometimes when he was trying to teach Laurent about something he deemed too complicated for a child. He continued, "but I imagine they were beautiful, in their own way. That is why you have to be so careful. Pretty things can be dangerous, too."

"They're dead."

"I'm not just talking about dragons," Auguste laughed, "I am talking about the world. Think of your new knife. It is pretty, no? But it can be very dangerous if you use it a certain way. Which reminds me, you ought to leave it in the box. You could cut yourself."

Laurent huffed. He was not in the mood for one of his brother's life lessons.

"Okay." Was all he said.

"Alright," Auguste gestured for Orlant to close the box, and Laurent felt his heart sink just a little bit.

+

The eggs had a draw to them. The longer Laurent went without seeing them, the more he wanted to be near them.

When Laurent passed the room where the box was being kept, he felt the overwhelming urge to walk inside and touch it. He crept closer to the doors and slipped inside during the guards' shift change. The box sat along one of the walls with the rest of the gifts, and Laurent pushed the lid open. The eggs stared back up at him, and without thinking, he picked one up.

Laurent turned the egg over in his hands. It weighed more than he had expected. He held it as carefully as he could, scared that he may drop it.

Laurent curled up against the wall and set the egg in his lap.

+

Laurent did not quite remember stealing the eggs, but he found himself in the hayloft that afternoon with all three eggs sitting in front of him.

The stables were empty, he realized a moment after he came back to himself and recognized his surroundings. The horses and men were gone. He racked his brain to remember why and finally arrived at the answer: they'd gone hunting. A last activity for the noblemen before the coronation festivities came to a close.

He was sufficiently far away from the palace and from other people that he was confident he would not be discovered quickly. He let himself drag his fingers across the hard surface of the eggs, tracking their speckles and spots like constellations.

Laurent took the biggest of the eggs into his arms and held it. The surface was hot, hotter, he thought, than it had been a moment earlier.

Carefully, Laurent descended the ladder down from the hayloft with the egg cradled in one arm. He knew the grip was not tight enough, but he was scared to hold it any tighter, lest he crack it by accident.

When he got to the bottom of the ladder, the egg slipped from his hands and fell to the ground with a loud crash. Laurent cursed under his breath and began to pick it up, his heart slamming in his chest as he noted the cracks running along the sides. Exactly what he had been trying to avoid.

Heat escaped through the cracks, and Laurent dropped the egg again with a surprised shout when tiny, blue flames began to lick through gaps, widening them. The egg cracked further on the marble floor, and the blue flames erupted. Laurent lurched back.

The flames spread across the floor.

Laurent scrambled backward toward the door, but the path was blocked by the flames. He held his breath, but the smoke didn't seem to rise. The air stayed clean and crisp as the fire raged around him. The fire raced along the walls until it formed a perfect circle around him.

The fire did not die down for several hours.

It burned blue, not orange, which Laurent thought was strange. He had never seen a fire with such a strange, vibrant color.

Laurent took a seat at the center of his untouched circle. He could see the waves of heat manifesting in the air, but he felt nothing. Not even a drop of sweat fell from his brow. He set the egg directly in front of him and watched as the cracks spread across the surface until eventually, it fell to pieces.

The stable was reduced to nothing but a pile of ash before the fire died, save for the small circle of ground where Laurent sat. 

Several voices shouted his name. He could see Prince Damianos of Akielos standing with his brother and father, watching with wide eyes.

His mother was the first to run forward, across the still smoldering ground to help him to his feet. Her hands were already sweating in the residual heat by the time she got to him. She brushed his hair out of his face and asked, "Chouchou, are you alright? You had me so worried."

Auguste approached quickly after her. Laurent looked up as his brother ran through the ash to him, grabbed him by the arms, and asked, "Are you hurt? What happened?"

Laurent did not say anything.

Tiny claws dug into this skin through his clothes as a tiny dragon, no larger than a kitten, climbed onto his shoulder.

Auguste barely had a second to react before the second and third dragons emerged from the ashes of the hayloft, squawking and hissing as they tested their new lungs. Instinctively, Laurent crouched to the ground and allowed the two newcomers to climb onto his arm. With his free hand, he petted their tiny heads.

Auguste's eyes were wide as he began stammering, "Lo, I... I don't understand. How--"

But their uncle cut him off by saying loudly enough that the small crowd around them could hear, "Behold: the last of the dragons."


	2. one

Ios had fallen. 

Those were the words whispered between commoners as King Damianos and his men marched back into the capitol.

There had been a border dispute in the free city of Delpha that had required negotiation from Akielos. In the time he was gone, two dragons had arrived at the palace in Ios.

The dragons had been in the back of his mind since he had first seen them. Every so often, he dreamed of Prince Laurent and his tiny, baby dragons. Creatures so weak, their wings could not yet unfold. Small enough that the child prince had been able to support the weight of two of them on one arm.

But the prince was not a child anymore, and neither were his dragons.

The palace had been weak and minimally defended while Damen was gone. The prince had taken the opportunity and seized control. It was a dishonorable way of war, but Damen could not deny its effectiveness. No army in the world was equipped to take down the likes of grown dragons.

If he wanted Ios back, he would have to take it.

He heard the dragons before he saw them. The sound of their screeching roars was louder than anything Damen could have imagined. It carried through the air and made his entire battalion jump. 

The dragon had its long, serpentine body wrapped around the east tower. It was still bigger than Damen had expected. Damen had seen forts smaller in length. Its scales were an iridescent black that seemed to change color as it moved. Two curved horns sprouted from the crown of its head, and whiskers curled from its snout like a mustache. On each of its feet were talons that dug into the side of the tower.

"I'll go in to speak with the invader," Damen told his men when they approached the steps, "None of you are to act until I return." 

Before he could make another move, his brother grabbed him by the arm and leaned closer to mutter, "If you get close enough, kill the boy prince and end this."

"I doubt his dragons will appreciate that," Damen replied, gently shoving his brother off him.

"They are wild animals, they have never before been successfully domesticated. His dragons have no stake in human conflict," Kastor said with a shake of his head, "Kill him and be done with it." 

The men nodded their agreement, but Damen pushed the thoughts out of his head as he entered the palace. He would only act with violence if it was necessary. Though based on the prince's reputation, it might very well be necessary.

It was emptier than Damen had ever seen it. The halls, usually bustling with servants and nobles, were deserted. There was so little noise, Damen was conscious of the volume of his breathing. 

The throne room was empty of everything, including the throne. Damen did not have a moment to be surprised. Outside the window, he saw a streak of dark scales. He made his way through to the courtyard, where the prince lounged lazily on the throne, a book in his hands. If he had heard Damen's army approaching, he did not seem bothered.

He was wearing dark navy clothes of Veretian make. As he got closer, Damen could see the patterns embroidered into his sleeves in fine thread. His hair looked nearly silver in the bright light of the sun. He was startlingly pretty. More pretty than anyone Damen had ever seen, perhaps. That was something Damen did his best not to think about as he walked across the stone path toward the prince.

The prince didn't look up as Damen approached. A second dragon was curled in a wide circle around the throne. It moved closer to the prince when Damen approached, and flashed its teeth. Prince Laurent took his time marking his place, setting his book aside, and standing. He bowed, and Damen did not copy.

"It is good to see you again, your Grace," Laurent said, "I was sorry to hear of your father's passing. You have my condolences." 

Damen wished to draw his sword, but he forced himself to remain neutral, "It is good to see you as well. You've certainly grown since the last time I saw you."

Laurent cracked a smile as he raised his hand to pet his dragon between the eyes, "I am not the only one." They looked ridiculous together, the dragon and the prince. Even standing at his full height, Laurent was not as tall as his dragon's head. Laurent glanced over Damen and said, "You look well. How were your travels?" 

"Let's just get to the point," Damen said sharply, and Laurent arched an amused eyebrow. Damen continued, "You will release your hold on Ios and return home, or there will be war." 

"A short war," Laurent replied, examining his nails, "I imagine the only person who needs to die is you, and only if you insist. Surely your men are smart enough not to attack. They know my dragons can burn the entire lot of them alive before they can even draw a weapon." 

Damen moved just a bit closer, and the dragon snarled. Laurent hushed it.

"I think there is still room for negotiation," Damen said.

"Negotiation," The prince repeated. He took a dramatic moment to glance around the empty palace, then back to Damen, "I don't really see how you're in any position to be doing that. You're no threat to me. You have nothing to offer me." 

"Perhaps we can arrive at a mutually beneficial agreement," Damen said. His fingers itched for the knife at his belt. As much as he wanted to remain peaceful, this did not seem like a fight he was going to win through diplomacy.

"Hmm," Laurent hummed and tipped his head to the side in mock consideration, "My apologies, your Excellency, but I just do not see what leverage you have. It seems to me that there is nothing here hindering me, least of all one man. You think your army can kill my dragons? Their scales are thicker than your armor." 

"No one will kill your dragons," Damen replied, though he wondered to himself if perhaps the beasts had a weak point, where a spear could be jabbed. He continued, "All I ask is that you leave peacefully." 

"No," Laurent replied lazily.

"You are not making this easy." Damen glanced over the prince. He was slight, and he held himself with the grace of a dancer. If Damen could get just a bit closer, he thought, he might be able to draw a blade on him. There was a knife in Damne's belt. If he could get to it fast enough--

"I would appreciate it if you allowed me to speak," Laurent said, "It's really not useful to argue, not when you so clearly have nothing on me."

Damen took a step forward, closing the space between them. Up so close, Damen could see the fineness of Laurent's features; the way his bottom lip was just a bit fuller than his top; the sharpness of his bones that gave him an almost androgynous look about him. He was pretty like a girl.

"Nothing to say?" Laurent glanced over Damen. He had to tip his head up a bit to account for their height difference, but he did not appear to feel threatened by Damen's larger build. Laurent then straightened a bit to say, "Well then, let me begin my demands. First--"

Damen caught hold of Laurent's waist and dragged him very close, then drew his knife and set the blade against the foreign prince's throat. He wrapped his arm tightly around the prince's torso, holding him as securely as possible. Behind the prince, the dragon snarled. Its lips peeled back to reveal teeth the size of Damen's forearms. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and Damen could feel the heat radiating from its breath. 

Laurent held up a hand to still his dragon. He was quiet for a moment; his eyes were locked on Damen's. Damen's arm was wrapped tight enough around Laurent's waist, he was certain the foreign prince would not be able to squirm out of his grasp.

"You shouldn't," Laurent said, arching a brow. If it was a warning or a plea, Damen could not tell.

"Your beast can't burn me without getting you, too." Damen said. A bead of sweat slipped down his forehead from the heat of the dragon's breath. 

"What makes you think I will burn?" Laurent asked, tilting his head to the side a bit. His own skin was completely sweat-less, even as his dragon inched closer. 

Damen set his jaw. He had heard stories-- myths, really-- of dragonriders of the past being fireproof. Entire cities burned to ashes, and the dragonriders were standing unharmed. How likely was it that those stories were real?

The foreign prince was wearing thick fabric that covered nearly his entire body, only his face and hands exposed, in hundred degree heat. That, and standing so close to a dragon preparing to spit fire, and Laurent did not even appear warm. Where Damen's fingers grazed his neck, the skin was cold.

"I don't want to kill you," Damen admitted, though his grip on his knife did not relent, "but I will do what I must." 

"I told you," Laurent said, never breaking their eye contact, "no one has to die."

"I will sooner cut your throat then let you take Akielos," Damen said. He was almost certain he could do it before the dragon could react. 

"This is not _about_ Akielos," Laurent had some bite in his voice. He snapped, "If you would let me--"

"Forgive me for acting too defensively when you sacked my palace and stole my throne. I must have misinterpreted what was clearly a gesture of diplomacy. Next time a dragon threatens to burn me alive, I will listen to what it has to say first," Damen's voice dripped with sarcasm, and the prince in his grasp huffed his annoyance.

"I understand you are angry," Laurent said slowly, clearly not actually trying to be understanding of Damen's anger. The shallow cut along his throat dug a little deeper when he swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Damen watched the crimson slip down the pale skin of the prince's slim neck.

"Leave Akielos," Damen snapped, "or you will die here."

"Hear out what I have to say, then you can decide whether or not you want to kill me," Laurent replied with a quirk of his eyebrow. They were standing so close, Damen could feel the prince's breath against his own neck.

"Talk, then," Damen demanded, pressing just a bit closer to Laurent. The knife bit against the delicate skin of his throat.

"It's a bit of a long story," The foreign prince said. When he spoke, the movement of his throat made the blade nick his skin. A fat droplet of blood slipped down his throat, and immediately after, the dragon hissed. Laurent continued, "It might be easier if we sat down to talk."

"Send off your dragon first." 

"No," Laurent replied flatly, completely unwilling to listen to the demand, "My dragon will do you no harm unless I tell him otherwise."

Damen tightened his grip around Laurent's waist, but they were already standing too close. Laurent's eyes darted over Damen's face, and for a split second, Damen thought he might have seen some fear. 

Damen released Laurent and returned his knife to its sheath, but drew his sword. The blade caught the light and gleamed, and the dragon eyed it. Laurent returned to the throne, but sat up straight this time. Annoyed, Damen demanded, "Speak your piece, Veretian." 

Laurent brushed the blood from his neck, set his hands primly in his lap, and began to speak.

"My dragons are not the only bits of the old world that have resurfaced," Laurent said, and Damen noticed the way he wrung his hands together, "There have been some strange occurrences. Things one can only explain through magic."

Damen gave a very impolite snort of a laugh, and Laurent's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Forgive me, your Highness," Damen said without sincerity, "but magic has only ever been a myth."

"I've seen it."

"Sure you have," Damen glanced from the prince to the dragon, who seemed to be reacting to Laurent's change in temperament. 

Laurent crossed his arms over his chest and huffed a breath. He said sharply, "It is real whether you believe me or not. If you refuse to listen to me, fine. But do not come for Veretian aid when magic comes for Akielos, too." 

"Is that what you are here for?" Damen searched the prince's face, "Aid?" 

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Ah," Damen nodded, "I see now. You are no conqueror. You came here not as a military conquest, but as a show of force. You are trying to scare me into helping you." 

"I can assure you, my dragons are more than fear tactics," Laurent said sharply, then cocked his head to the side and said with false sugary sweetness, "If you find my uncle, you can ask him if dragonfire is an idle threat. See what he thinks of my dragons." 

Damen had heard the stories. A smaller, adolescent dragon burning the prince's uncle one night. The stories varied. Some said the dragon burnt the side of his face until it was black, others said it burnt his right hand down to the bone. No one agreed on why the dragons had acted, whether it had been the split-second reaction of a wild animal or a planned attack by the prince. 

"It burns hotter than anything," Laurent said, his lips quirking into a slight smirk, "So hot, the flames are blue, not orange. Did you know they could do that? I did not, not before I saw them." 

"You're desperate," Damen said, a shot of excitement jolting through his body, "That's why you're here, in full force. You must be so desperate, you cannot accept 'no' for an answer. You are trying to leave me with no option but to help you." 

"You are ridiculous," Laurent rolled his eyes. If Damen had been paying any less attention, he would have missed how Laurent's shoulders tensed just a little bit.

"Tell me," Damen said with a nod, "What did this _magic_ done that has you so frightened?"

"I am not frightened," Laurent said too quickly for it to be true. He took a breath, then lifted his head just a little bit. He said, "Unfortunately, I require your assistance getting rid of this magic. Once it is done, I will draw back from Akielos and return your throne. My dragons will not bother you again."

"What has this magic done?" Damen asked again. Then he said, "You must understand that I need a bit more information before making my decision."

"Your decision," Laurent scoffed, "Your decision between the overthrow of your kingdom or helping me with one task? I imagine it is not a difficult choice. I don't see why I need to reveal anything."

"Gods," Damen shook his head, "You really are insufferable." 

The foreign prince was desperate, that much Damen was certain of. This magic he was talking about, if it existed, scared him. It was something personal. Something he was afraid Damen would use against him. 

"Just tell me what you need," Damen amended, "so I understand what is being asked of me. I do not think that is too much to ask." 

Laurent paused to consider, then carefully nodded. He set his hands in his lap and said, "A curse, an old one. Older than the Eaporian Empire, older than my dragons." Almost subconsciously, he reached out, and his dragon moved to meet his hand. Laurent began stroking the creature as if it were nothing more than a house cat.

"I see," Damen said dryly. He had never believed in magic.

Laurent must have heard the disbelief in his voice, because the prince's gaze turned sharp. He said more abrasively, "It is true. I have... I have done some research, searching through the ancient texts. They were difficult to decipher, but I believe I've found a way to break it the curse. Unfortunately, it requires the help of someone of the royal lineage."

Damen just nodded.

"The last king of the ancient kingdoms was from modern Vere, but he was disposed and replaced by Emperor Eapor, who was from the south. His lineage is not present in Vere." Laurent eyed Damen with suspicion, "which means I need you or your brother."

Damen shook his head, "That is a ridiculous story. It sounds like a child's fable. You can't expect me to believe it. Whatever game you are playing--"

"I am not _playing_." 

"--I will not fall for your tricks."

"They aren't _tricks_."

The dragon lurched forward and snarled, and Damen jerked a few steps back. His heard slammed in his chest, and for a second, he could not catch his breath. His fingers wrapped more tightly around the hilt of his sword.

Prince Laurent said something in a language Damen did not understand, and the dragon drew back. Still, it glared at Damen.

Laurent took a deep breath, released it a few seconds later, then said, "Alright. It is true that I am... desperate. The curse has affected someone for whom I care very deeply. I am... I am afraid that if I cannot break the curse, I will lose him."

Damen let himself soften just a bit toward the prince. He was an annoying and arrogant little thing, yes, but Damen understood the fear of loss. He had felt it every day while his father lay dying.

"I see," Damen said, and this time, he really did mean it.

Laurent, clearly uncomfortable with how vulnerable he appeared in the moment, straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. Damen would have thought it was rather sweet the way the prince was trying to put on a brave face, if not for what he said next. Laurent said firmly, "You will help me. Or I swear before all the gods, I will kill you. I'll burn your entire palace to ash." 

There was fire in his eyes far more deadly than in his dragon's mouth.

"There will be no need for that. Akielos will aid you," Damen said. It did not appear he had much of a choice, but a part of Damen thought he might have done it anyway. The recent passing of his father had made him overly soft, maybe, but he understood grief. He knew how scary it was, and when he really looked, he could see that fear in the eyes of the prince.

"Good," Laurent said, releasing a short breath, "Either you or your brother can accompany me. It doesn't matter to me which of you wants to come." 

"Kastor will cut your pretty throat the moment you are alone together," Damen replied, which made Laurent glance at the knife at Damen's belt and arch a brow.

"And you will not?" 

"Fair question," Damen sheathed his sword, "I will not. I swear this on my honor: I will not harm you, nor allow harm to befall you until the curse is broken. After that, we will go our separate ways. I will not seek retaliation for your invasion of my palace." 

Laurent stood. He said, "I swear this: I will respect our deal. Neither my dragons nor I will do you any harm until the curse is broken. When we go our separate ways, I will not attack and overthrow your rule." 

"A deal, then."

Damen extended his arm, and Laurent grasped it.

+

They would move out at first light-- that was the agreement they had reached. Laurent had been pushing for them to leave at that very moment, but Damen had convinced him of the need for good food and good rest the night before a journey such as this one.

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Laurent sat at the right hand of the Akielon king, and though he tried to ignore the stares, they were bothering him.

His dragons were outside. He knew better than anyone that their senses were better than any humans. If he gave a command, even from inside the palace, he was nearly certain they would hear it. Sometimes, he did not even need commands. Sometimes, it seemed to him that they could sense what he wanted, like they were an extension of his consciousness rather than autonomous beings.

Prince Kastor glared at him the entire meal. Hardly anyone spoke.

"If I may be so bold," Kastor's voice cut through the silence like a knife. It seemed unpleasantly loud, but Laurent thought maybe he had just become accustomed to the quiet. Kastor continued, "I don't think it is absurd to suggest that the Veretian has done more than enough to warrant retaliation."

Laurent simply said, "So retaliate."

Outside, one of his dragons snarled. The sound was muffled through the walls, but only slightly.

When no one said anything, Laurent shrugged and said, "I thought not."

Kastor's face contorted with anger, but before he could say anything more, King Damianos lifted his hand and addressed the table, "If the threat of magic is indeed real, it is something to be taken seriously."

"It _is_ real." Laurent snapped, unable to stop himself. There was nothing in the world he hated more than being treated like he was stupid.

"So," Damianos said slowly, eyeing him, "I will be taking it seriously. There is nothing to retaliate for. No harm has been done." 

Laurent knew Damianos did not really believe that, he was only trying to calm his men. It was a noble gesture, trying to keep the peace, but it would not work. Laurent saw the anger and the hatred in the eyes of the nobles around him. The sooner he was out of Akielos, the better.

Determined not to show his nerves, Laurent took a small sip of wine.

His whole body was full of jitters. He wanted nothing more than to just go outside and sit with his dragons until morning came. Loki, the smallest of his dragons, liked when Laurent scratched his neck, and Eaporia always seemed calmer when Laurent was with her. To be quite honest, Laurent was also at his calmest when he was with his dragons. Maybe Laurent would go see them after dinner. Hennik, the largest of his dragons and who he had named after his late mother, had been left behind to guard Arles in his absence. Laurent missed him, as well as his brother.

Laurent set his wineglass down.

"I think they're beautiful creatures, your Highness," Said one of the ladies, "If it were ever possible, I should like to have a cloak that looked like their scales. The way they catch the light is just incredible."

Laurent was not sure how sincere this woman was, but he bowed his head just a little and said, "Thank you, my Lady. I agree. They're very impressive animals."

"Are they animals?" The woman propped her head on her hand, "I heard they were gods. At least in the old days. Perhaps not anymore."

Tension coiled in Laurent's body. He said, "You'll have to forgive me, my Lady, I am not entirely sure what they are. They are not animals in the sense that horses and dogs are, certainly."

The lady just looked at him. She had sharp eyes, eyes that seemed to me searching him for any information she could fine. Laurent understood then that this woman was not just curious. She wanted to know how his dragons worked. She wanted to know if they had weaknesses. Even Laurent was unsure if they did.

"Sometimes I think they're completely sentient, like they have human minds behind their horns," Laurent said, "They think and act for themselves. Sometimes, I think they can read my mind."

Damianos was watching him, too. Everyone was watching him.

"Very interesting," The woman said, nodding. Laurent could nearly see her filing away that information in her brain, keeping it for later use.

"Lady Jokaste has been interested with your dragons since she heard of their existence," Damianos said with a nod toward the woman, "Many of us have been fascinated. Some say they were sent to you by the gods."

"I have been told similar stories," Laurent admitted.

Everyone always told him his destiny was in Akielos. They said surely the gods sent him a remnant of the Eaporian Empire because he was meant to find his destiny there. The Eaporian capital had once been Ios. Priests often encouraged him to travel to Ios to find his fate. Now that Laurent was here, he wished it was under different circumstances. He'd always imagined his destiny would be a good thing. This was not that.

When dinner concluded, Laurent was brought to a guest chamber. He spent less than a minute inside before slipping out again to visit his dragons.

The moment he stepped out toward the cliffs that lined the palace, his dragons dove down from the sky to meet him. Loki nudged him with his snout, and Laurent nearly stumbled off his feet.

Laughing, he said in Patran, "Careful. You will throw me off the cliffs like that."

Loki relented.

Eaporia was content to curl her long body up like a snake and watch Laurent and Loki. Laurent stroked Loki's nose as he spoke, "The Akielon will join us. Eaporia convinced him, really, so it is not to my credit. Everything will be alright. Auguste will be fine."

Loki nuzzled against him, and Laurent sighed. 

"We _will_ break the curse, I swear it," Laurent said with a nod, "This is destiny, remember? Destiny brought us here, to Ios. It must be destiny that we break the curse. Right?"

Loki could not answer, so he just snorted a little.

"Yeah," Laurent murmured, assuring himself, "I think so, too."

He watched the sun get lower and lower over the horizon until it was dark, and the moon began to rise. It was stark white and full against the blackness of space. Laurent traced over the constellations in his head. It settled his nerves a bit to stare up at the stars.

Auguste had taught him constellations when he was still a little boy. When the dragons were still small enough to be inside, they had looked up at the stars with him, too. Eaporia had rested across Auguste's shoulders like a cloak, and Hennik had curled around Laurent's arm.

By the time Laurent began making his way back to the guest chambers, it was well into the night.

There was blood on the ground. That was the first thing Laurent noticed.

He drew the dagger he'd kept in his sleeve as he inched closer, scolding himself. They should have left the moment Damianos agreed. It was stupid to think staying in the palace would be safe, even just for a night.

Laurent peeked around the door frame, dagger held at the ready.

So the Akielons thought he was helpless without his dragons. Laurent would just have to prove them wrong.

Laurent came around the door and the figure inside turned to attack. They slashed down with their sword, but Laurent parried the blade with relative ease. The attacker lowered his weapon when Laurent stepped more into the light.

"Prince Laurent," It was Damianos, Laurent realized, "When I did not find you here, I feared the worst."

Laurent made a half-step to the side and quickly drew back again when his boot came into contact with sticky blood.

"What the fuck is all this?" He asked. Probably not the most formal of tones, but his heart was slamming in his chest and he was not thinking about formalities.

Damianos pointed to the corner, where a body laid. The blood was spilling from a wound in their chest.

"A lackey of one of the noblemen, I assume. No servant would have been so bold," Damianos said with a shake of his head.

"One of your nobles," Laurent said slowly as his head wrapped around what was he was seeing, "tried to assassinate me."

"I swore it to you that I would not allow harm to befall you," Damianos said earnestly. He sheathed his wet sword and tried to take Laurent by the hand, but Laurent pulled away. Undeterred, Damianos continued, "I intent to keep my oath."

Laurent took a deep breath. He needed to relax. He could not let Damianos see him shaken.

"I'll sleep with the dragons," Laurent muttered and began to leave.

"Outside?" Damianos drew his brow together, "Your Highness, don't be absurd."

Laurent turned sharply to face Damianos, his face hot with anger, "Your man tried to kill me!"

"He was not mine."

"What difference does it make? He is from _your_ court, what different does it make who gave the order?" Laurent snarled, "Did I not make myself clear enough? I thought the fire-breathing dragons would have been a simple message for your court to understand, but I must have been mistaken, so this time, I will make certain you cannot misunderstand. I will burn everything. If you tempt me again, I will burn _everything_."

"I _defended_ you," Damianos' own anger was becoming aparent, "I saw an unfamiliar face headed toward your chambers, and I _defended_ you! Lucky I did, or you would be gutted right now."

"I am going to my dragons," Laurent huffed. He began to leave the room, but Damianos followed him until he fell into step beside Laurent.

"You sacked my palace, and I _still_ protected you from harm. I made an oath to keep you from harm. I _saved_ you. I think a 'thank you' is not too much to ask," Damianos said, and Laurent wanted to scream.

This was a bad idea, he thought, coming to Akielos was a bad idea. But then, he had not had a choice, had he? This was the only way to break the curse. He'd had no choice but to come to Ios.

Laurent took a sharp breath and said, "I will see you in the morning." He stepped out the door and made his way back to the cliffs, Damianos still tagging along beside him.

"You _really_ are insufferable," Damianos muttered as he came to a stop and let Laurent go.

Eaporia lifted her head from where she was curled around herself and moved to meet Laurent. She cast a long look in Damianos' direction as she began to circle Laurent protectively.

"It's not his fault," Laurent told her in Patran, though she did not seem to care. She still glared after him as he left. Laurent sat on the grass, and she laid in a circle around him. He leaned against her body and drew his arms around himself.

Someone had tried to kill him.

He should not have been surprised. It was not even the first time. Once, when he was younger, someone had aimed a crossbow at his head. And when he came of age at eighteen just two years earlier, someone had been caught poisoning his wine. Just that morning, Damianos had held a knife to his throat. It did not ever get easier to deal with, though.

He clenched his shaking hands and took a deep breath.

Destiny, he reminded himself. He was always meant to come to Ios. Something great was sure to come from his time here.

He fell asleep some time later, destiny still on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think :)) comments/kudos are appreciated!


	3. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((picture the dragons from avatar, not GoT))

Morning came quickly. Damen dressed himself and took up the bag prepared by servants. Inside was a small stash of food and water, as well as a coin purse. 

Breakfast was taken quickly, and when Laurent did not make an appearance, Damen took some food and wrapped it up a napkin for him. On his way out, his half-brother arrived, blocking the exit just as Damen was leaving.

"No goodbye?" 

Damen smiled and clasped his brother's shoulder, "Goodbye, Kastor. Take good care of Akielos while I am gone. I will try to be quick." 

Kastor grunted a non-committal sound, then just said, "I still think you ought to dispose of the boy."

"Kastor," Damen said sharply.

"This is the perfect opportunity," Kastor continued urgently, glancing behind him to be sure no one overheard, "When you are far from the city, put your sword through his heart. His dragons will not be able to retaliate on Ios." 

_Only on me_ , Damen thought. He smiled more tightly.

"I made an oath to him, I do not intend to break it." Damen was a man of honor. His word was something he guarded carefully, something he took pride in. His oath to the Veretian was not something he would go back on.

"That was very stupid," Kastor shook his head, "You should have let the assassin take care of him."

Damen narrowed his eyes, "He was yours."

"Of course he was," Kastor gave a short laugh, though it lacked humor, "I gave you the perfect opportunity. You would have had deniability. You could have told everyone it was the act of one angry servant, and no one would have been able to argue."

"And if the dragons had retaliated anyway?" 

"The dragons won't be bothering anyone once their master is dead," Kastor replied, glancing toward the window where one of the dragons was visible circling above the palace. Kastor murmured, "I don't know how the little brat was able to domesticate beasts, but I doubt anyone else will succeed. Once the boy is dead, they will have nothing left but to return to the wild."

Damen watched the dragon, too, for just a moment. He said slowly, "I don't think he is truly a threat. Once he has what he needs, he will leave us be."

"He's a Veretian and a dragonlord. He will always be a threat." 

Damen sighed. He turned his attention away from the window and finally said, "Goodbye, brother. I will see you when I return." 

Kastor did not say anything else as Damen moved outside, toward the cliffs. The second dragon was curled up in the shade, and when Damen called Laurent's name, it looked up. Laurent himself was nowhere to be seen. 

Damen called his name again.

The other dragon came diving out of the sky and landed lightly near where Damen was standing. It walked a bit, then lowered one of its shoulders. Laurent slipped gracefully from its back and onto the ground. The dragon then straightened and glared at Damen. 

Laurent, still wearing his clothes from the previous day, clasped his hands in front of him and gestured with his head toward the dragons. He asked, "Are you ready to leave?" 

"I will need to get the horses," Damen said, and Laurent knit his brow.

"Why would we take horses?" 

Damen just stared at him. 

"My dragons are faster," Laurent said and glanced behind himself to check on them, "I would really prefer this be done as fast as possible. Horses will only slow us down." 

"You want us to ride--" Damen looked at the enormous creature in front of him, "--your dragons?"

Laurent cocked his head, a little smile quirking at his lips. He asked, "Are you afraid?" 

"Of riding a dragon hundreds of meters above the ground?" Damen said dryly, "Oh no, of course not. What is the worst that could happen, I fall to my death? One of them burns me down to ashes? Right, nothing to worry about."

Laurent gave him a last look, then turned back to walk toward his dragon. Reluctantly, Damen followed.

"This is Eaporia," Laurent said, reaching out to her. She moved her head to meet his hand and nuzzled him lightly. Damen could only stare. To see something so fearsome acting so gentle, so loving... it was incredible. Laurent continued, "She is calm, quite even-tempered. She won't let you fall."

Laurent then said something to his dragon that Damen didn't understand.

"Is that Patran?" 

Laurent nodded and explained by simply saying, "My mother." Then he said, "I'm just reminding her that I need you alive for the time being." 

"Right." Then Damen remembered: "I brought you breakfast." 

Laurent looked at the little bundle and carefully reached out to take it. He turned it over in his hands and unwrapped the napkin. 

"It isn't poison, if that's what you are afraid of," Damen said. Laurent looked back up at him to meet his eyes.

"Thank you," Laurent took a small bite of the bread.

Damen looked up at the dragons while Laurent ate quietly.

"You were joking, right? About riding them?" 

Laurent arched a brow, swallowed his bread, then asked, "How did you think I got here?" 

"Well," Damen frowned, "You're their master, of course you can ride them. But I don't think they'll like me touching them very much." 

"Dragons have no masters," Laurent replied easily. He finished the last of his breakfast.

"Right," Damen murmured dryly under his breath as Laurent turned back to Eaporia, saying something in Patran. Hearing that they did not have a master did not make Damen feel any better about climbing on top of one. 

The second dragon moved over to Laurent when Laurent beckoned for him.

"This is Loki," Laurent said, petting his dragon's nose.

"Loki," Damen repeated, staring at the creature. Loki was a Patran god of trickery. It made sense that a Veretian would be drawn to such a god.

Laurent gave Damen a sideways glance, then took a small step back. Loki set down his head so Laurent could climb on top.

"It's not so hard. Eaporia is calm, she won't jostle you too much," Laurent drew himself on top of Loki's neck and swung his leg over. He said, "Stay close to her head and hold onto her horns if you need to." 

_The Veretian is trying to kill me_ , Damen thought to himself. Laurent was strewn lazily on his dragon's neck and his head propped up on his hands. He arched an eyebrow when Damen still did not move. 

"Alright," Damen said slowly, looking over to Eaporia. The dragon lowered her head. 

Damen lifted his hands to climb on top. Under his hands, the scales were rough. He hoisted himself up and carefully positioned himself on her neck. Eaporia lifted her head again, and Damen lurched forward to grab the horns to steady himself. When he looked over, Laurent seemed to be stifling a laugh at his struggling.

"All okay?" Laurent called.

Damen replied, "Shut up." 

Laurent said something Damen could not hear to Loki, and the dragon snorted as if a reply. A few steps later, Loki was jumping from the cliffs and extending his wings to catch the wind. Damen's heart dropped, and he muttered to himself, "Fuck." 

Eaporia lurched forward.

Damen was unprepared for the feeling of flying. The wind was rushing in his face faster than anything he'd felt before, whipping his hair back and making his eyes and mouth feel dry. 

It was the most adrenaline Damen had felt in a long time. A few moments into the flight, his heart was pounding and a smile spread over his face that he could not hide. Damen let out a laugh that carried in the air. He slowly released his grip on Eaporia's horns and held his arms out. 

The wind rushed past, and it felt like Damen himself was flying. 

+

Damen was disappointed when they landed. They stopped only briefly to stretch their legs and eat some of the dried meat and fruit Laurent had in his bag. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Damen had no idea where they were. He had turned back at some point in their journey, and the city of Ios was nothing more than a smudge on the horizon. 

They stopped again for the night. 

Damen gathered supplies to make a fire and argued up and down with Laurent that no, Damen did not need one of the dragons to start a fire for him. Damen was, in fact, perfectly capable of starting one himself. Laurent watched judgmentally as Damen rubbed two sticks together until they caught.

As the fire began to rise, Laurent said, "We can be there before midday if we leave at first light." 

"Where's ' _there_?'" 

Laurent didn't say anything to that. He had with him only a small bag of belongings, from which he drew a map. He spread it out on the ground near the fire and crouched in front of it. Damen crept over to look over his shoulder, and Laurent huffed.

"Explain to me what exactly we are doing," Damen said, and Laurent shot him an annoyed look. Damen said, "I have agreed to help you and sworn to protect you. The least you can do is tell me why." 

Laurent looked at Loki, who just snorted.

"Fine," Laurent said, rolling his eyes, "Sit. I'll explain it to you." 

Damen sat across from Laurent, a short distance between them. Loki watched Damen through razor-sharp eyes. Damen understood what Laurent meant when he said he wondered if his dragons were entirely sentient. The look in the dragon's eyes was one Damen had only ever seen in human eyes. Eyes that hid complex thought behind them.

Laurent sat straight and pushed his shoulders back. He began carefully, "It was difficult to find anything on how to break the curse. I spent days looking over the ancient texts without rest. I thought maybe I would never find it." He quickly shook his head and refocused himself to saying, "I found a possibility, nevertheless. Hidden away in an old spell book. I am almost certain it will work."

Damen nodded. He thought about voicing his doubts, but looking at Laurent, he understood that the topic was too sensitive. Laurent probably had his own doubts, anyway, so Damen kept to himself.

"It mentions an enchanted sword, which can only be drawn by kingsblood. That's you," Laurent nodded toward Damen, "All you need to do is draw the sword and slay the curse caster with it. Then all his magic will fall apart, and the curse will be broken." 

Laurent looked up at Damen, searching his face quickly.

"Okay," Damen said slowly.

Laurent sighed, "I know how it sounds." 

"It sounds like a fable," Damen said with a little nod.

Laurent huffed and buried his head in his hands, "I know. But I believe it will work."

Damen just said, "It is worth trying." 

"Yes," Laurent knit his brow. Loki moved over and nudged his snout lightly against Laurent's cheek to comfort him. Laurent reached up and stroked Loki's snout. In a softer voice, he said, "I did not believe in magic, either. Not before I saw it for myself. It is... it is not what I expected it to look like." 

They sat quietly for a moment. Laurent was staring at the ground, but Damen imagined he was not really seeing it.

"The cursed man you spoke of," Damen said slowly, uncertain of how gentle he should be with this topic, "Who is he to you?" 

Laurent folded in on himself just a bit. He looked at his hands and murmured, "Someone important to me."

"A friend?" Damen asked, then he glanced over Laurent's pretty face and long legs, so he amended, "A lover?" 

When Laurent did not say anything, Damen understood the answer.

"Oh. Your brother." 

Laurent closed his eyes. In a careful, precise syllable, he said, "Yes." 

"I'm sorry," Damen said gently.

Laurent shrugged, "It is not your fault."

"Is it..." Damen could not think of a good word.

"Bad?" Laurent finished, glancing up at Damen. He nodded wordlessly and drew his knees closer to his chest, propping his head on his arms. A few seconds later, he said, "Yes. It's bad." 

"What--"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Laurent closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Right, of course. You don't need to if it upsets you," Damen said with a quick nod. Just looking at Laurent, he could see the affects of Laurent's memories. His eyes were darting and he kept wringing his hands. He seemed to be trying to make himself smaller.

Magic was not something Damen had ever thought much about. It was the stuff of children's stories and folktales. As a child, he had heard cautionary tales about strange witches who cursed little children or sorcerers who lured kids away to be eaten by monsters. He had never thought about what magic really looked like.

But Laurent was not quiet for long. Damen was beginning to learn that Laurent talked quite a bit. It seemed he always had something to say.

"It is... difficult to explain. I don't want to think about it right now. Besides, you will see it soon enough, I imagine," He said, turning his head to look at Damen, "The caster will not make himself an easy target. Our best bet is to catch him off guard." 

"He likely does not know that you came to me. He may not even know that the curse to breakable," Damen pointed out.

Laurent looked at the fire again and murmured, "I am not... certain. I think this will work, but I--" He took a deep breath, shook his head, then said, "Never mind. It will work. And if it doesn't, then I will deal with that, too." 

"I bet it will work," Damen said, though he truly had no idea.

"Everyone has told me it may be best to just kill him. Auguste, I mean. Put him out of his misery, you know?" Laurent was fiddling with a blade of grass between his fingers, "But I can't. Not yet, not before I try. Maybe not ever."

"Don't think like that," Damen said, "It's not helpful to be worrying about the worst possible scenario."

Laurent scoffed, "I know. I'm worried anyway."

They sat in silence for a long moment. Laurent stared into the fire.

When Damen spoke again, it was to change the subject. He leaned over and asked, "Are you actually fireproof? Or was that a bluff?" 

Laurent answered by reaching into the fire and picking up a still-burning log. 

"Weird," Damen murmured, which made Laurent crack a tiny smile.

"Weird? That's all you have to say?" Laurent placed the log neatly back onto the fire.

Damen caught him by the wrist and turned his hand over. He traced the palm of Laurent's hand, but there was no evidence of burning. The skin was not even warm. He dragged his fingers gently across the lines of Laurent's hand.

He realized too late that it was a strangely intimate gesture. Laurent was staring at him with wider eyes than usual.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly.

Damen answered by releasing him and saying, "Nothing. Sorry. I am too familiar." 

Laurent nodded, "Far too familiar." but he did not pull his hand away.

Damen let his gaze linger on Laurent for a long moment. 

Then Loki moved over and nudge Laurent with his snout. The dragon seemed unaware of his own size, because he nearly knocked Laurent flat. Laurent caught himself by bracing his hands on the ground. Instead of being annoyed, Laurent smiled a bit and set his arm over the dragon's nose. When Loki lifted his head, he brought Laurent with him to his feet.

"They're hungry," Laurent explained as if it was nothing serious.

"Oh," Damen said, a sense of dread coming over him, "What do they eat?" 

But Laurent was too busy talking to Loki to respond. It was a funny thing to watch, Damen thought. Laurent didn't talk to his dragons the way people often talked to horses or dogs; he talked to his dragons like they were people. He talked to them like they understood him.

A few moment's later, Loki huffed, drew back, and flew off. Eaporia followed closely. 

"They're going hunting. They will be back soon," Laurent said.

"So," Damen said when Laurent sat back down, "I presume you know where the enchanted sword is." 

Laurent said, "I've narrowed it down. We will be at my first guess tomorrow. I think it is the most likely choice, but I may be wrong. The second location is not too far, we could make in less than a day from the first." 

"Right," Damen said slowly, "and the curse caster?" 

Laurent's eyes became cold when he said, "Him I know for certain." 

"A friend of yours?" Damen asked dryly, and Laurent shrugged.

"Something like that." 

"I see," Damen nodded, "and why did they curse your brother?" 

"Why does anyone harm a king? He wants power. He wants the throne," Laurent met Damen's eyes, and Damen was surprised by the sharpness in Laurent's look. The more he was seeing of Laurent, the more he was realizing that the dragon prince was not fire, he was ice. 

"If your brother were indisposed, you would take the throne, I assume," Damen said. It was not an accusation, but Laurent narrowed his eyes as if it was.

"I would never do anything to hurt my brother." 

"I did not say you would." 

"Well, you insinuated--" Laurent cut himself off and took a deep breath to calm himself down. A moment later, he said just marginally more relaxed, "I have no desire to be king. Certainly not at the expense of my brother." 

"You two are close?" Damen's relationship with his own brother had been anything but close for the last few years. As children, Kastor had taken a sort of mentor role, but as adults, Kastor's jealousy had gotten in the way of any possible friendship.

"Yes," Laurent said shortly, "I don't want to talk about this any longer." 

Damen just nodded. 

The dragons returned half an hour later. Laurent wordlessly got up to meet them. Damen watched as Laurent sat on the grass in front of Eaporia and talked to her, too far away for Damen to hear anything. He watched Laurent's slow, gentle movements as he pet Eaporia's neck. 

Damen rolled his eyes, more annoyed with himself than anything else. He could not believe he ever thought the foreign prince was a conqueror. Now they were hundreds of miles from Ios, and Damen was stuck with him. 

_A magic sword_ , Damen thought to himself. He tried forcing himself to believe it.

He began to doze off next to the fire. He lost track of exactly how much time, but some moments later, he felt a light weight over him. He sat up quickly, suddenly fully awake and with his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was about to lift it, but he registered the figure sitting over him.

"Didn't mean to frighten you," Laurent said with a little shrug, "but I don't really get cold. So." He gestured vaguely to the blanket he'd spread over Damen.

"Oh," Was all Damen said.

Laurent arched a brow as if waiting for more, then scoffed and muttered, "Oh." 

"Thank you, I meant." 

But Laurent had already stalked back to his dragons, where he curled up and fell asleep.

+

Morning came too quickly. Damen was lurched out of a deep sleep when Laurent shook him awake none too gently. He was wearing new clothes this time: a white undershirt, simple by Veretian standards, navy trousers, and his same well-worn boots. His bag was already slung across his shoulders.

From his position, crouched over Damen, the sun was caught behind his head and filled his hair with its light. It made him look like he himself were the light source.

"Come on," Laurent said, nudging him again.

"You are not very patient," Damen grumbled as he sat up.

"We could be there before noon if you would get off your ass," Laurent snapped. He shook out his hands, which Damen noticed were trembling.

"This first location," Damen said as he laced up his first sandal, "where is it?" 

"Along the coast," Laurent said.

"Which coast?" 

"Patran side. We're in Vere right now," Laurent said impatiently, all but stomping his foot in his annoyance at Damen's pace. 

"We're in _Vere_?" It took two weeks to get to the border by horseback. 

Laurent straightened and kicked at Damen to get him moving, "I told you my dragons were faster." 

Damen had not realized _how_ fast.

"I am surprised you have not used this to your advantage before now," Damen said. If his father or Kastor had been able to utilize the speed and strength of dragons, they might have seized control of half the continent by now. Laurent seemed to understand this without asking.

"There have been some who suggested that I did. When I was twelve, my uncle tried to convince me to topple the Patran king," Laurent looked to his dragons, who seemed to mirror his own impatience with Damen.

"You didn't, though." 

"No," Laurent cocked his head, "I didn't want to." 

And that as the truly scary part about it, in Damen's opinion: the fact that it was only a matter of whether or not Laurent _wanted_ to overthrow kingdoms. The fact that one day, if he felt like it or if he was in the mood, he could fly over to Ios and take full control. No one would be able to stop him. 

That was exactly how Emperor Eapor had seized control of the continent. Damen had always thought of that as something too far in the distant past to matter in the present, but here in front of him stood someone with that same power. If Laurent wanted, he could be the ruler of a new empire.

 _But he hasn't yet_ , Damen reminded himself, _and he doesn't seem interested in doing it any time soon._

"Hurry up," Laurent said, and he made his way over to his dragons.

Damen strapped his sword belt to his waist and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the comments & kudos :))) love you guys! <3


	4. three

They landed along the beach before noon, just as Laurent had said. 

Laurent looked about the barren beach. It was little more than a thin strip of sand. On his left was the open expanse of the ocean, and on his right was a wall of jagged cliffs and coconut trees. Nothing about the place indicated magic of any sort. He took a deep breath. If there was any magic here, he would find it.

From a bit behind him, Damianos called, "So where--" 

"Over there," Laurent pointed to the cliffs, "The sword is said to be sealed away."

Caves dotted the cliffs. He steeled himself and tried to keep his wit about him, even though it looked like a daunting task. This was not going to be a quick endeavor. 

_For Auguste_ , Laurent reminded himself. He started toward the rocky path that divided the beach from the cliffs.

"Why is it that you think the sword is here?" Damianos asked, following Laurent There were a thousand caves between Ios and here. This spot seemed random at best.

"This is the site of the Last Battle." 

Damianos nearly stopped in his tracks, and Laurent had to hide the satisfied smirk from his face.

The Last Battle was highly fantasized. Children heard stories of the epic showdown between Eaporian dragons and the men who slayed them. He looked down the stretch of white sand. The breeze cut through his hair. Any indication of a battle was overrun by the progress of nature. Sand and wild flowers had come over the gore. The site that had once been the most important place in the world was now just another part of it.

Damianos said, "Emperor Eapor died here, then." 

Laurent replied evenly, "So did his dragons." 

Loki was following him like an overgrown lapdog, not very good at walking in the sand. Laurent turned to him and said in Patran, "Stay here with Eaporia and be good. I will be back soon."

To Damianos, he said in Veretian, "They'll only attract attention." 

Loki snapped his jaws at Laurent, and though Damianos moved for his sword, Laurent didn't flinch. He just sighed, some soft words of comfort, and patted Loki's nose. The dragon snorted in annoyance, and a flash of flames licked through his nostrils. 

"They don't like it here," Laurent concluded, glancing about. He could not blame them. The place felt dead.

"They know what happened?" 

"Maybe," Laurent wasn't sure the extent of what his dragons knew. It was possible they knew they were the last of their species. It was equally possible that they didn't know there were ever more than just the three of them. Laurent said, "Maybe they can sense it. Or I don't know, maybe they just don't like sand." 

Damianos laughed a bit. Laurent had not been joking.

They began moving toward the cliffs, and he said to Damianos, "The sword will be hidden, so keep your eyes out for anything that looks--"

A scream cut through the air. 

Laurent stopped and muttered, "Fuck" under his breath.

Damianos came to stand in front of him, one hand already on the hilt of his sword and the other held out in front of Laurent. A protective gesture, Laurent realized with a roll of his eyes. It would be funny if it wasn't so annoying. Laurent didn't need protecting.

"What do you think that was?" Damianos asked, though he kept his eyes forward, scanning for the threat.

"How should I know?" Laurent arched a brow.

"Someone is in trouble." 

"Someone is not our problem," Laurent replied a little harshly.

Damianos turned sharply to look at him, "How can you say that?" 

_My brother is going to die._

"Can we just hurry?" Laurent said impatiently.

"We can hurry after we help whoever needs it," Damianos replied, and with that, he began moving in the direction of the scream.

Laurent wanted to hit something, but instead he followed Damianos, muttering a curse under his breath. He hated this. He hated this place. He wasn't sure if he could sense the dragons' deaths some five hundred years earlier or if he just thought he could, but regardless, this place made his stomach twist. Everything felt wrong and dangerous and grim. It reminded him of the way the palace felt when he'd left Arles.

More than anything, he wanted to leave. The sooner they got the sword and saved Auguste, the better. He would never have to see the overconfident, over-chivalrous Akielon again.

He hurried to catch up with Damianos, who was crouched behind a large, fallen tree. Laurent moved over to him, saying just lowly enough that his voice wouldn't carry, "I understand you have some moral superiority complex and that's really wonderful for you, but if we could get moving without dallying in some problem that is not ours, I would--"

Damianos reached over, pulled Laurent down to a crouch, and said, "Shh."

Laurent batted his hand away, "Don't touch me." 

"Keep your voice down," Damen hissed, then nodded to the scene in front of them.

Trees and rocks obstructed his view, but in the distance, Laurent could see three men standing about an overturned merchant's cart. The merchant was shouting at them, but the other two were laughing and brandishing their weapons with little care. The two bandits sorted through the merchant's supplies while he shouted curses.

Only two bandits, neither seemed to be much of a threat compared to someone with real combat training. Laurent shook his head.

"We don't have time for this," Laurent began to stand.

"What are you doing?" 

Laurent turned back to look at him, moving slowly in the other direction, "You go over there and play the hero; I'm going to find the sword. Come find me when you're done."

Damen's eyes widened comically, and he shouted, "Laurent!"

Then something slammed Laurent over the head, and he fell hard to the ground.

He groaned and struggled to sit up, but was met with a kick that sent him back to the ground. Above him, a man's voice said in Patran, "Spying on us, huh?"

Laurent answered, "Fucking asshole." and kicked the man in the knee. What he got in return was a spearhead leveled at his chest.

Damianos had drawn his sword and was approaching slowly. He said to Laurent in rapid Akielon, "Stay still; you're just aggravating him." He was inching closer and eyeing his opponent like a predator. As he approached, the attacker pushed the spear closer to Laurent.

"Move any closer, and I'll kill him," The man with the spear snapped at Damianos, who didn't need a translation. He stopped in his tracks, eyed the spear, and slowly lowered his sword.

Leaves rustled behind Damianos, who turned sharply and was met with another two men brandishing weapons. Laurent cursed the gods for their misfortune. It was not just a single merchant robbery, no, this was much bigger than that. Laurent sighed, more out of annoyance than genuine panic. He wanted to be in Arles. He wanted his brother.

"You behave," The man holding the spear snapped at Laurent, then gestured for him to stand. Laurent got to his feet and brushed himself off. Bits of grass and rogue sand were sticking to his clothes. 

"Drop the sword," One of the bandits snapped at Damianos.

Laurent translated to Akielon, then added, "This is your fault, by the way." 

"You're insufferable," Damianos reminded him, and Laurent just arched a brow and absently picked another bit of grass from his sleeve. Damianos dropped his sword and held up his hands.

The man with the spear shoved Laurent forward, and annoyed, Laurent began forward. He fell into step beside Damianos and snapped in Akielon, "I told you this was none of our business, but _no_ , you had to--"

"Shut up," The man with the spear barked, and Laurent huffed.

"Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you," Damianos told him.

"How chivalrous of you," Laurent rolled his eyes.

He set his shoulders back and glanced up at the sky. Noon was fast approaching, and after that, daylight would wane quickly.

+

Damen thought it was sort of nice, seeing Laurent get knocked to the ground so easily. He would have liked to do that, too, when Laurent was sitting on the throne in Ios and playing a conqueror. But still underneath that satisfaction was a twist of guilt and an urge to rush to his defense. He wanted to hurt the man who'd hurt Laurent. Damen blamed that feeling on his honor.

The bandits took them to the clearing beside the overturned merchant's cart and began talking with the man Damen took to be the boss. A big man with a thick mustache and pale hair. Damen could smell tobacco coming off him. 

The boss barked something at them, and Damen just blinked. They seemed to only speak Patran.

"He said to put up your hands," Laurent said in Akielon. His accent was a pleasant drawl across his syllables that made him elongate vowels and cut off consonants. A strange sound, but somehow sing-song.

Damen put up his hands, and the bandits checked him for weapons. They pulled a dagger from Laurent's sleeve, which made Damen scoff loudly. He snapped, "You didn't think to use it?" 

Laurent looked a little offended, "I have something better than a kitchen knife." Then Laurent turned back to face the bandits and did not look at Damen again.

Laurent and the boss exchanged words, the boss sneering the entire time. Laurent's words were dry and unfazed by their situation, and he answered the questions as if he were bored. Damen caught him glancing toward the cliffs between sentences, though, and knew his mind was elsewhere.

After a few exchanges, there was a beat of silence between Laurent and the boss. Then the boss gave his men an order, and two of them grabbed Damen. Another went for Laurent, who narrowed his eyes and shoved the man away. He shouted some quick, angry words, and the boss responded by hitting him in the jaw. 

The next thing Damen knew, he had tackled the boss to the ground. 

He wasn't even sure exactly why he had acted so swiftly. He didn't even _like_ Laurent that much.

Before Damen could return the blow the boss had given Laurent, he was dragged off by three of the bandits. They pulled him back and shoved him to the ground, where they began binding his hands.

"What the fuck did you say to him that made him punch you _that_ quickly?" Damen snapped, and Laurent bristled.

"Piss off."

"Oh, never mind," Damen shook his head, "I forgot who I was dealing with." 

The bandit shoved Laurent down to his knees. Laurent squirmed in discomfort as the bandit pulled his arms together to bind them. Anger and protectiveness rose in Damen's chest.

"The merchant is gone," Laurent said, glaring at Damen as if that were his fault.

Damen turned and realized that yes, the attacked merchant had used the commotion as a distraction. He was long gone.

"I am so glad we stopped to save his sorry ass instead of finding the sword. What a good man. Certainly worth keeping my brother waiting," Laurent said sarcastically.

"Shut up," Damen huffed, "He was not a fighter."

The boss snapped something at Laurent, who tore his attention away from Damen and this time, was mercifully silent. Whatever the man said clearly did not please Laurent, because Damen could see the slight downturn of his lips and the ice in his eyes. 

The bandits pulled them up and moved them to sit at the edge of the clearing. One of the bandits then tied them to a tree. 

Sitting shoulder to shoulder, they watched the bandits pick through the merchant's overturned cart and laugh. 

"This," Laurent said slowly, drawling out his syllables, "is your fault. In case you had forgotten." 

"You are the one who got caught," Damen retorted.

"I didn't even want to come," Laurent snapped and tugged harshly against the ropes, "I wanted to find the fucking sword and get back to my brother." 

Damen was quiet for a second, letting the words hang in the air. He had not forgotten how Laurent looked the night before as he recounted what had happened in Arles. Damen imagined it must be truly awful for it to scare Laurent the way it did. 

"We're going to find the sword and save your brother," Damen tried to be gentle.

"I--" Laurent broke off and shook his head, "Forget it." 

"What?" 

Laurent was quiet for a long while.

Damen watched the biggest of the bandits drink half a bottle of stolen whiskey in one go. A smaller one barely managed a sip. Damen thought this was funny. He let it distract him from the cramping in his arms.

"I'm worried we might be too late," Laurent said suddenly. By that time, Damen had nearly forgotten about his question.

It took him a second to remember what Laurent was talking about, then he said, "Oh." 

Laurent rolled his eyes.

"It's that bad?" 

Laurent tipped his head back against the tree behind them, exposing his long neck. He shuttered a deep breath, then said very precisely, "Yes."

"We can get out of this," Damen said, "We just need a plan." 

"I'm working on it." 

"We can work on it together," Damen tried to tamper his annoyance, "so it might go faster."

Laurent looked him up and down, then said, "I don't think that would be faster." 

"Tell me what you're thinking," Damen said, choosing to ignore the jab.

Laurent arched a brow skeptically, then sighed and said, "I want to lure them out to the beach."

"The beach," Damen repeated. Loki and Eaporia were waiting there. He said, "Surely you don't mean to--"

"Look, whenever they come over here, says something to me about gold," Laurent said, "It's a cognate. They'll know what you mean, and they'll think we're hiding it from them. Do you understand?"

Damen's mouth felt dry. He just nodded.

"Good," Laurent turned back to the bandits, and Damen saw him scan through them in an almost clinical way.

It was a long while before any of the bandits so much as looked at them again. Laurent spent the time brooding and frequently reminding Damen that this was all his fault. The first few times, Damen argued. It was only after he noticed Laurent was shaking that he stopped. He realized this was not bitchiness, it was anxiety. 

Damen changed his tune, "We're going to get out of here and get the sword. It'll be alright." 

"We've been here for too long," Laurent shook his head, "We should have left by now, and we haven't even started." 

"Hey," Damen said more firmly, which prompted Laurent to turn to look at him. Given their position, it was a bit awkward. Their faces were too close. It was too intimate. Damen reeled for a moment before he said, "Everything is going to be okay. I promise." 

Laurent huffed, then turned back to look at the bandits. Damen stared at him for just a moment longer. He really was very pretty, objectively. He had a nice slope to his nose and sharp bone structure. His lips were full and pink. A bit chapped, though. 

Laurent shouted words in Patran that Damen did not need translated to understand they were less than kind. When he was ignored, Laurent groaned in frustration. 

"What are they up to?" Damen asked.

"How do you mean? They're drunk bastards." 

"I mean why are they keeping us here?"

Laurent frowned, "The big one talked about selling us. Seemed to get a good response." 

Damen's stomach dropped, "They're slavers?" 

"Opportunists, more like," Laurent replied with as much of a shrug as he could manage, "Though I doubt this is their first run at illegal slave trade. Not exactly the sort of thing you try on a whim." 

Damen shook his head in disgust. Slavery had been illegal for a century, but it was no secret that it was still practiced underground. Mostly children and women.

"We'll make them sorry for that," Damen said sharply, and Laurent looked at him.

Slowly, Laurent said, "Yes. I agree." 

"Well, at least that's one thing we have in common. Basic morality," Damen retorted, and Laurent cracked the tiniest smile.

"You would be surprised how few people have basic morality." Then Laurent just turned back to the bandits and fell silent for a long while.

"That one's a weak link," Damen said, nodding in his direction. He'd been watching the men carefully. This one did not know how to handle a sword. He was hardly upright, and he seemed to forget that he was even wearing a weapon.

"Which one?"

"The blond one. On the left," Damen said.

Laurent turned his attention to the man and nodded. He didn't say anything after that.

+

It was dark before the bandits acknowledged them again. 

They were brought from their tree back to the clearing to sit at the fire. The boss seemed intent on interrogating Laurent, but as usual, Laurent was being a bitch about it. He gave only clipped responses, if he gave a response at all.

When there was a lull in the conversation, Damen leaned over and said in a mock-hushed voice, "This is me telling you something about gold." 

Laurent shot him a look.

The reaction from the bandits was immediate. Laurent was forced into a quick conversation with several of the bandits trying to talk over each other.

It was only a few minutes before the bandits dragged Laurent to his feet. 

Several lit torches from the campfire, all shouting and jeering with each other. They were excited. Damen was surprised by how efficient Laurent's plan had been. The men were practically tripping over each other to get to the front of the group. 

It was only a short walk back to the beach. 

"Do you think you can get to one of their swords?" Laurent asked quickly.

"What?" 

"Do you?" 

One of the bandits jostled Laurent to shut him up.

"Yes," Damen said, glancing to either side. The weak link he'd pointed out earlier was close. If he could get his hands on his sword, he could use it, even with his hands bound in front of him.

"On my signal," Laurent said with a stiff nod.

They crossed onto the beach, and Laurent didn't say anything when the men asked him a question. They walked further into the beach, and it seemed the bandits were beginning to realize that there was no ship docked. Their confusion and frustration grew with every step.

They were about halfway to the water when Laurent said, "Now." 

Damen lurched forward and grabbed the weak link's sword, drawing it from its sheath and slashing the man's throat in the process. The bandits drew their weapons, and Damen quickly cut his bonds before slipping into his fighting stance. 

There were a lot, but they were less experienced and a bit drunk. Damen raised the sword and in two quick motions, bested the first man to rush him. 

The other bandits looked hesitant. The boss shouted in Patran at Laurent, who just smiled. Damen slashed the bonds between Laurent's hands quickly so he wouldn't have to lower his defenses to protect Laurent.

"You may want to start running now," Laurent said to Damen lightly.

Damen scrunched his brow, "What?"

A loud roar cut through the air, and while the others, Damen included, moved to cover their ears, Laurent hardly flinched. 

"You should go," Laurent said with a little nod toward the caves.

"Without you?" 

"Yes, without me," Laurent looked annoyed at the question, "Go."

Laurent began to turn back toward the men, and Damen caught him by the elbow to say, "I'm not leaving you here alone."

The air was again filled with a thunderous roar, and Damen glanced up. Eaporia was circling.

"You won't have to," Laurent shook him off, "Take cover behind something that isn't flammable." 

Damen hesitated, "You're sure?" 

"Of course I'm sure," Laurent rolled his eyes and shoved Damen toward the caves, "Go. Now."

Loki landed so hard, the ground shook, and Damen very nearly lost his footing. Several tried to run, but Eaporia cut off their exit. She allowed Damen to pass right by her. 

As he approached the jagged caves, he was aware that it was becoming very hot. He heard Loki roar, then the heat became more intense.

He staggered into the first cave and looked over at the beach. It was nearly too bright to make anything out. The fire was contained, thanks to the sand, but the heat was intense enough that Damen could feel it even from this distance. He had grown up hearing stories about dragonfire. How it was the hottest thing on the planet, how no man could ever replicate it. He had thought they were exaggerations.

When Damen looked away, his eyes were burning. He was sweating. He stayed in the cave for a long while, until the cool night air nipped at his face. 

The sand was too hot to walk on when he got close to Laurent. It burned even through his shoes, so he made a wide arc around the dragons to step across the wet sand closest to the ocean. The water lapped at his feet, and he relaxed into the frigidness of it. 

Laurent was speaking in soft Patran and petting Eaporia's snout. It was a ridiculous sight, really, Laurent standing at his full height and still being dwarfed by the head of his dragon. Eaporia's eyes were as large as Laurent's head. Eaporia's snout was longer than Laurent's body.

It took Damen a moment to realize that Laurent's clothes were gone-- burnt away by dragon fire.

"Laurent," He called. 

Laurent's cheeks turned rosy as he snapped his head around to look at Damen. Eaporia's eyes turned to Damen, and when she snorted, smoke billowed from her enormous nostrils. Laurent smiled and said, a bit embarrassed, "Damianos. Hi."

"Hi," Damen said. He took his cloak from his back as he approached Laurent, and when he was close enough, he gently swung the fabric across Laurent's shoulders. Laurent drew it around himself to cover his body.

"Thank you." Laurent pulled it a bit tighter, then looked up and said, "It smells like you." 

Surprised, Damen laughed a little and asked, "What do I smell like?" 

Laurent shrugged, "I don't know. The ocean. Firewood."

"Right," Damen bowed slightly. His eyes ventured up to look at the dragons. Loki towered above them, but Eaporia craned her neck to be more level with Laurent. She brought her tail in a wide circle of protection around them.

Laurent, following Damen's eyes, asked with a little smirk, "Did you think they were just for show?"

Damen shook his head, "No. But still, it is... quite different from what I expected. Seeing them in action, it is more than I could have ever imagined."

Laurent smiled a little bit. It was a pleasant thing: just a slight curve of his soft lips that made his whole face look more gentle despite the sharpness of his angular features. Damen found that he liked Laurent's smile. He found himself smiling, too.

"They really are amazing," Laurent said, and he reached out to pet Eaporia, who met his hand gently.

"So are you," Damen said automatically. 

Laurent gave him a sharp, defensive look, as if he thought Damen were making a cruel joke.

"You are unscathed," Damen said, nodding to Laurent, "I mean, regular fire is one thing, but it is said that dragonfire is the hottest thing to ever burn. And you can survive it without so much as a flush."

Laurent drew the cloak tighter around his body and said, "We should find the sword."

"Of course," Damen nodded quickly.

Laurent slipped behind his dragon to change his clothes.

He reappeared wearing trousers, boots, and an undershirt. Damen tried not to stare, but he knew that by Veretian standards, Laurent was hardly dressed. Of course, Akielon standards said Laurent was perfectly covered, but the knowledge still made Damen's cheeks heat.

Looking disappointed, Laurent said, "My knife melted." 

"Oh." Damen wasn't sure what else to say.

Laurent sighed, "It's okay. Let's go." 

Damen nodded, and they set about their mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damen: I am looking respectfully
> 
> Thanks so much for reading :) and thank you to all the people who have commented and left kudos <3


	5. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's 6000 words... enjoy :)

Dawn broke without them making any progress. The caves were too shallow to hide much more than some crabs and some rocks. Laurent thought he might fall asleep on his feet, but he pushed himself forward. On the beach below the caves, Loki and Eaporia were growing restless.

"I don't think it's here," Damianos said with a shake of his head. Laurent snapped his head up to look at him.

"Maybe we're just not looking hard enough." Morning light was beginning to creep into the caves. His eyelids felt heavy.

"Laurent," Damianos shook his head.

"What?" Laurent snapped. His fatigue was making him quicker to annoyance.

"What's the second location?" Damianos asked, then said, "You said this might not be the right place. Where's the second location?"

"I _know_ what I said, but I was almost positive it would be here. It makes the most sense, I thought--," Laurent cut himself off before he could spiral into that thought and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. They'd been searching the caves for hours. The sword was nowhere to be found.

Damianos stifled a yawn and said, "We'll find it. I promise."

Laurent huffed. This was Damianos' fault. He had gotten them captured.

Instead of making a biting remark, Laurent took a deep breath. He said sharply, "Let's go then. We've wasted too much time here."

Damianos nodded and followed him out of the cave. He slipped away quickly to retrieve his sword from the woods before their departure.

Loki moved to meet them as they climbed down to the beach. He nipped and prodded at Laurent, who smiled as he brushed him away and said in Patran, "I am tired. We can play later."

Loki huffed smoke out of his nostrils and allowed Laurent to climb onto his back. When he looked over, he saw Damianos uncertainly scrambling to get on top of Eaporia. She was a patient creature, but even she cast Laurent a look that could only be interpreted as _really_? Laurent found himself smiling silly watching Damianos. He tried to school his expression, but it kept coming back. Maybe it was his exhaustion, or maybe it was the way the morning light was hitting Damen.

The second location was in northern Vere. Far enough north that it was chilly even then, in the height of summer. With every mile they traveled, Laurent found himself wishing more and more that he had saved his jacket before the burning.

It was not a long trip. They had left so early, it was only noon when they landed.

They were in the valley between two mountain ranges. Snow brushed over the tips of the mountains, partially concealed by clouds. Wildflowers grew in vibrant colors in the tall grass. Laurent could hear the easy rushing of water running off the sides of the mountains into streams obscured by the cliffs.

Loki snarled when they landed, and Laurent slipped from his back to the ground. He moved to Loki's front to comfort him, but it was a lost cause. Loki's head was snapping from side to side, and his wings twitched to show his discomfort.

Eaporia was not much better, though she handled it with more grace.

"What's wrong with them?" Damianos asked when he stumbled to the ground. Laurent was quiet for another moment, watching them

The realization hit him hard. He murmured, "Magic."

"Here?" Damianos frowned and glanced about. Laurent silently shared his apprehension.

When he focused, he could feel it too. It was the same strangeness the room had had when Auguste was cursed. Like the air was just a bit too heavy, like he was moving a bit too slowly. Like time didn't pass. Like he was underwater.

"It's strong," Laurent said, glancing to his dragons.

"The sword must be here, then," Damianos sounded certain.

"Yes," Laurent tried to work up his confidence again, but it had been damaged after his first guess was wrong. He straightened and turned to go search.

Damianos caught him by the arm and said lightly, "You look tired. Let me go ahead. You can rest."

"Shut up," Laurent rolled his eyes, "Let's go."

Damen did not release him. With his other hand, he cupped Laurent's chin and tipped it up. There was a long moment of silence, and Laurent's heart raced. Damianos's eyes were big and kind and full of concern. Laurent couldn't look away.

"Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine," Laurent answered.

"Your pulse is fast," Damianos said. He was holding Laurent's arm tightly enough to feel it.

Laurent shoved him off, "I'm okay. Let's go. The sooner we leave, the better."

"Alright," Damianos said slowly, glancing about the place uncertainly.

A sharp breeze cut through Laurent's thin shirt, and he drew his arms around himself. He pressed forward. The grass was up to his knees.

"Do you know where you're going?" Damianos asked.

Laurent's ears were humming from the magic in the air. He just retorted, "What, you have a better idea?"

Damianos caught up to him and asked, "Why do you believe the sword to be here?"

Laurent had nearly forgotten. His mouth felt dry.

"Because there are whispers," Laurent said slowly, "that this place is cursed, too." Judging by the magic that hung in the air like humidity after a storm, the rumors were true.

"You _must_ have a death wish."

Laurent promptly ignored that and drew his arms tightly around himself. The breeze was sharp. They began toward the eastern mountain range, along the gentle incline of the hill building up to the mountain.

"Here," For the second time, Damianos removed his cloak and set it around Laurent's shoulders.

Laurent curled it tight around himself. The fabric was surprisingly sturdy for something an Akielon would wear in their climate. It did better at blocking out the wind than Laurent had thought it would.

"You do not do well in the cold, do you? You must be miserable in Arles," Damianos mused, sounding a bit amused. Laurent shot him a look.

"I'm fine. Just under-dressed."

"I am wearing less than you," Damianos pointed out, and Laurent wished he hadn't. It made Laurent's eyes instinctively go to Damianos's body-- to his exposed legs and arms and the muscles that rippled with every step he took. Laurent quickly adverted his eyes.

"I suppose that is the downside of being a dragonlord," Laurent muttered, "Maybe this is why Emperor Eapor preferred Akielos to Vere."

Damianos laughed, "Poor thing. You can withstand thousand degree heat, but not a little chill."

"Fuck off," Laurent snapped, "Look for the sword."

They continued in silence into the ravine between the mountains. The wind was worse here, where it was tunneled. Laurent clutched the cloak closer. It still smelled like Damianos. Laurent was embarrassed that he could identify that scent.

The sound of water rushing was getting louder, as was the hum of magic.

After a few long minutes, Laurent broke the silence, "Damianos--"

The Akielon lifted a hand and said, "You can just call me Damen."

"Damen," Laurent repeated, trying it out. The new word felt strange on his tongue. He said, "I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course," Damen said. He lifted up a thin tree branch so Laurent could slip underneath without trouble, and Laurent tried not to acknowledge how the small, kind gesture made his cheeks flush.

"You attacked a man for me. Yesterday, I mean. He hit me, and you tackled him." He hadn't stopped thinking about it since.

"I did," Damen replied.

Laurent held back a moment so they could fall into step beside each other, then asked, "Why?"

Damen took Laurent's chin in one hand and tipped it up. Laurent's heart fluttered in his chest. A part of him wanted to slap Damen's hands away, but another part wanted to let the touch linger as long as possible. Damen's hands were so gentle and warm.

"Because he gave you this," Damen said, referring to the forming bruise.

"Your oath--"

"I didn't do it because of the oath," Damen said quickly. He lowered his hand from Laurent's face, and Laurent scolded himself for being disappointed. Damen continued, "I just didn't want you to see you hurt."

Laurent was quiet for a few seconds, just staring at Damen. When he found his words, he said, "Well, I can take care of myself."

Damen nodded, "I know. I saw, when you burned them alive."

"They were slavers," Laurent reminded him sharply.

"I was not judging you," Damen assured, "I share your disdain for slavers."

They came upon a little waterfall. The water rushed from the cliffs into a thin stream below. Damen stopped and moved to it.

"We should keep going," Laurent said, glancing up at the mountain above. If it came to that, he would have Eaporia bring them up higher.

"Just getting a drink," Damen said.

Laurent tapped his foot impatiently and looked about. There was so much of nothing all around them. The grass and wildflowers continued for miles, and above that were miles of mountain. Rocks and foliage covered the sides of the cliffs.

"--ent?"

Laurent looked back toward Damen.

"Are you ready to go?"

"There's a cave behind this waterfall," Damen said.

Laurent frowned, "What?"

"Look," Damen gestured for Laurent to come crouch beside him, and Laurent did.

Damen cupped his face with one hand and turned his chin, "There." Damen's touch was so warm, Laurent thought he could melt right into it.

There was a gap behind the waterfall that opened into a cave.

"You said it would be hidden," Damen reminded him.

"How did you--" Laurent looked around the scene around them, "How did you find this?"

"Sorry?" Damen knit his brow.

"I would have walked right by, how did you know to stop here?" Laurent's mind was racing. The valley was enormous, and Damen had found a hidden cave in fifteen minutes. It didn't make any sense, logically.

"It's just a coincidence, Laurent."

Laurent did not believe in coincidence. He stood straight and said, "The sword is in there. It has to be." The gods wanted them to find this spot. That was the only explanation that made sense. The gods were guiding them.

Damen led the way into the cave. There was a small gap between the waterfall and the cave entrance, and Damen had to swipe his shoulder through the water to get past. Laurent slipped in beside him, careful to keep the cloak from getting wet.

"Gods," He muttered immediately, "It is _freezing_."

Damen chuckled, "Come along, dragonlord. It's not so bad."

Laurent clutched Damen's cloak tighter around himself.

"If I bring some sticks from outside, can you start a fire?" Damen asked. The cave stretched into complete darkness in front of them.

Laurent nodded.

"Alright," Damen moved back through the cave entrance and disappeared for a while. 

Laurent crouched against the damp wall of the cave. It was even colder inside than outside.

The hum of magic was worse inside the cave. It rang in Laurent's ears and fogged his mind. He hardly noticed Damen come back until he was being nudged with a stick.

Laurent sat on the cave floor and rubbed two of the sticks together until they caught. Unthinking, he brushed his fingertips through the flames to warm himself up, and behind him, Damen inhaled sharply.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Damen said with a shake of his head. He then reached over to take the cloak by the edge and tore strips from it. Laurent watched quietly as he wrapped the cloak around the edge of two of the larger sticks to make torches.

"It makes you uncomfortable?" Laurent asked as he rolled up his sleeves to keep them from catching light.

"No," Damen said slowly as he crouched beside Laurent to light the torches, "It just makes me worry for you. For a second. Then I remember how incredible you are."

Laurent turned to look back at the fire. It was easier than meeting Damen's eyes.

"I don't see why you think it's all that," Laurent said, "There are stories of people with this ability that outdate even the Eaporian Empire."

Damen said, "No one has had this ability in five hundred years."

"That you know." Laurent took one of the torches and got to his feet, "Come on. Let's find the sword."

+

The cave was a labyrinth. Twice, Laurent led them into a dead end and muttered strings of profanities at the walls, as if it was their fault. The exhaustion from their sleepless night did not help either of them.

"It has to be here somewhere," Laurent said as he kicked a rock with all his force.

When Laurent pressed forward, Damen caught him by the hand and said, "Sit down for a moment."

"Why?" Laurent snapped.

"Because I am tired, Laurent, and you are, too."

Laurent looked about ready to fall over, but he still argued, "I am perfectly fine. We should continue."

"Sit," Damen said more firmly, and Laurent huffed in annoyance, but he followed Damen when Damen found a place to prop his torch and sit.

Grudgingly, Laurent sat and muttered, "This is hopeless." He was quiet for a long minute after that, staring at the fire.

"It isn't," Damen insisted, "The sword is here."

"This place is giving me a headache," Laurent muttered, putting his head in his hands, "Can you feel it, too? It's like a humming. It's fucking obnoxious."

Damen couldn't feel it.

"Do you have any other clues as to where the sword might be?" Damen asked, changing the subject.

Laurent didn't lift his head, "Probably where the humming is the worst."

Damen didn't know what to say to that. There was another question pressing at his mind, but he held himself back from saying it. He looked at Laurent, whose eyelids had drooped shut.

Very carefully, Damen asked, "What exactly did the curse do?"

Laurent stopped for a long moment.

"You don't have to say anything, if you don't want to talk about it," Damen told him.

Laurent was quiet for a bit longer, lifting his eyes to watch the fire, then said slowly, "I am not sure exactly what it is. It infected my brother's mind. He is... not all there. It was like something snapped-- like he was possessed by something. He started speaking in Old Veretian."

Damen frowned, "What did he say?"

"I am not familiar enough with the language to have understood it all. I only caught bits and pieces," Laurent shook his head and took another long pause, fiddling with the cloak absently, "He was calling on the old gods. And monsters. He attacked anyone who got close to him. He--" Laurent broke off quickly, took a sharp breath, then continued, "He hurt himself."

"How seriously?" Damen drew his brows together.

"I had some of the guards put him in restraints," Laurent said. He tried not to picture it. Auguste screaming at him, calling for ancient gods to strike him down while the guards wrestled him into chains. He shook his head, "One of my guards suggested I end it."

Damen nodded wordlessly, giving Laurent the space to keep talking if he wanted.

"I would be king," Laurent said. His voice sounded distant. He said, "My uncle always said I should be king. He said my dragons were a sign from the gods that I was meant to rule. I never believed it."

They were silent for a long moment.

"He tried to kill me."

Damen frowned, "Who did?"

"Auguste," Laurent squeezed his eyes shut, but the memory persisted, "Right when the curse took hold, I was with him and he just--" Laurent shrugged helplessly, "--he threw me down and tried to strangle me. It took three of my guards to drag him off me."

There had been bruises around his throat for a week. He'd concealed them as much as he could, but they peeked out over his high-collared shirts. Regardless, he spent the entirety of the week pent up in the library and translating the ancient texts, so very few people actually saw him.

The bruises were not the worst of it. Laurent had not been able to sleep for days. He'd been shaky and jittery and scared every moment. At every loud noise, he jumped. It had taken several days for him to calm down.

Damen had gone still, staring at him.

Laurent said quickly, "He would never have done it normally. He's a good man."

Damen nodded, "I believe you. And the caster?"

Laurent frowned.

"I think I deserve to know who you are asking me to kill," Damen said with a cock of his head.

There was a pause, then Laurent answered, "My uncle."

"I see," Damen was quiet for a long moment, then because he couldn't help himself, he said, "I heard once that your dragons burnt him."

"Yes," Laurent thought back to that day. He was thirteen, and his uncle had come to him at night when his dragons attacked. Auguste had been so angry, not at Laurent, but for reasons Laurent never really understood. He had been too young at the time to grasp what was happening, and Auguste did not talk about it. Still, Laurent had a feeling he knew what his uncle was trying to do that night. He tried not to dwell on it.

"Why?"

"I am not entirely sure. I think he was trying to steal my dragons," Laurent said, though that was only half of it.

The dragons were still small enough to come inside, but only barely. The majority of the time, they slept in the fields. His uncle hadn't realized the dragons were in his chambers that night-- that was only a coincidence. He had come with other intentions and changed plans when he saw them.

Laurent continued, "He was always talking about how powerful they were, but I never saw them that way. They're not weapons." He looked up at Damen to gauge his reaction.

"What are they, exactly, to you?" Damen asked, glancing from Laurent to the dragons.

"It's difficult to explain," Laurent shook his head. It always sounded dumb when he tried to explain it. He took a breath and said, "They're like my children."

Damen just arched a brow.

"I think the gods gave them to me for a reason. Everyone is always telling me that they mean something. They say they're tied to my destiny, and my destiny is tied to the old empire."

"Akielos," Damen said, "Your destiny is in Akielos."

"I don't know if I believe it," Laurent said with a shake of his head, "but anyway. My uncle wanted me to use them more. He said I was wasting them. I suspect he wanted to create a new empire, one he had some power over. So he tried to take them. Hennik attacked him."

"Hennik?"

"My third. He's in Arles guarding Auguste," Laurent explained. He was named after Laurent's mother.

Damen was listening quietly, watching Laurent's face.

"He's fucking lucky," Laurent said a little more harshly than he had intended, "Hennik didn't have full control of his fire yet. I imagine it was only barely hotter than a furnace. My uncle would be dead, if it had been true dragonfire."

"I imagine so," Damen said with a small nod, remembering the dragonfire of the previous night.

"They aren't monsters," Laurent said sharply. Defensiveness built up in his chest.

"I don't think so, either," Damen said evenly. He met Laurent's eyes with easy confidence.

"Is that right?" Laurent arched a brow, "Usually that is people's first impression of them."

"Ah, see, I am different. My first impression of them was that they were stealing my kingdom."

Laurent smiled his satisfaction, " And what was your first impression of _me_?"

"My first impression?" Damen drew his brows together, "When you sacked my palace, threatened to kill me, and forced me to help you under threat of burning my entire city to the ground?"

Laurent nodded.

Damen considered for a moment, then said, "Well, I guess I thought you had pretty eyes."

"I'm being serious," Laurent rolled his eyes, but his face was flushed with red. The answer had caught him off guard.

"So am I," Damen shrugged, "but I can give you a different answer, if you'd like."

"Please."

"I thought you were egotistical and annoying. Stubborn. Headstrong," Damen said with a little nod as he ticked off his mental list, "Unwilling to listen to reason. Quite possibly insane."

Laurent frowned, "That's a little harsh."

"Maybe," Damen replied, "but in my defense, you were acting like all of those things."

Laurent swung his hand out to slap Damen's arm, but Damen caught his wrist in one hand. A sharp tug brought Laurent lurching forward, half into Damen's lap. Laurent tensed, his free hand steadying himself against the ground so he couldn't fall any more forward. His eyes were darting wildly. It was several seconds of silence before he settled a bit, his eyes coming to focus on Damen's.

"Do you still think I'm those things?" He asked, and Damen shook his head. Laurent let himself sink a little closer to him and asked, "What do you think of me now?"

Damen flicked his gaze down to Laurent's lips, then looked back to his eyes. He spoke more quietly than before, "I think you are softer than you want me to think you are."

Laurent's eyes flicked over his face once more, then he gave a little laugh, slipped his wrist free of Damen's grasp, and said, "Nice try."

"Tell me, what am I trying?" Damen asked as he watched Laurent get to his feet and straighten his shirt.

"Would you like to know my first impression of you, Damianos?" Laurent asked, arching a severe brow. He had a look about him that made Damen think whatever he said next would not be entirely kind.

Damen sighed, leaned back on his hands lazily, and said, "Fine."

"It was that you are overconfident," Laurent said it as if it were the worst thing he could have been, but Damen thought this was not so great an insult.

"You wound me," Damen said with mock-drama, and Laurent huffed in annoyance.

"Arrogant," Laurent snapped, "Volatile, reckless."

"Volatile?"

"You held a knife to my throat with a dragon breathing down your neck," Laurent snapped, "Yes, volatile."

"That was a bit volatile of me, I will admit," Damen said with a little smile, "but you must understand, I was thinking of the safety of my country. It was not personal."

"Naturally," Laurent rolled his eyes.

Something like a voice rushed past Damen's ear. He snapped his head around to find the source, but was met with only the damp darkness of the cave.

Shadows were tracking across the cave walls in unnatural movements. At first, Damen thought it might just be the fire sending strange shadows, but as he looked, the shadows contorted into figures with hands and fingers and limbs. Then they darted off, deeper into the caves.

The voice was murmuring again, and Damen hesitantly got to his feet.

"Do you hear that?" Damen slowly turned his head. The murmurs were echoing off the walls, overlapping each other.

When he turned back around, Laurent was not there any longer. Damen set his hand on the hilt of his sword and drew it slowly. He held it in front of him and began deeper into the cave.

"Laurent?"

The whispers were the only reply he got.

+

Damen wasn't there when Laurent turned around. He tightened his grip on the torch in his hand and called, "Damen?"

A voice whispered behind him, making Laurent twist around.

"Follow me," It said.

Laurent's heart was pounding. Shadow people rushed across the walls.

"This way," The voice rushed past him.

+

Damen could have sworn the cave walls had moved. When he walked toward the tunnels to move deeper into the mountain, the entrance was in a different spot than he remembered.

"Come forward," The voice murmured.

"Who are you?" Damen asked the darkness. He held his sword in front of him, muscles tensed and ready.

"Child of the Emperor, come forward."

A chill shot down Damen's spine, "You know who I am?"

"The blood in your veins is not new here. Follow me."

Damen inched closer.

+

"Hello?" Laurent shouted. His voice echoed across the cave ceiling. A shadow rushed past the wall beside him.

"Here, my child," The voice whispered, "Just a bit deeper."

Laurent turned to face the dark tunnel ahead of him. He brought his torch higher.

"The curse-breaker you seek is here," The voice was behind him now, traveling in a circle around him, "Follow me, and I will bring you to it."

There was a warning creeping in the back of his head, telling him not to follow, but his mind was foggy. He inched forward, "Who are you?"

"Something far older than your dragons, boy. I will show you the way."

Laurent moved forward.

+

Damen stumbled into a wide cavern. Water dripped from the ceiling and across his forehead. He trekked forward, turning wildly and scanning the walls for any sort of marking characteristic.

"Hey!" He yelled into the darkness, and his shadow elongated in front of him until it climbed up the entire far wall of the cave, then it darted to the side without Damen moving. Damen followed it with his eyes.

"Peace, kingsblood," A voice murmured into his ear. Damen flinched and whirled around to face it, but there was nothing there. The voice continued, "You will find what you need. Allow me to guide you."

"Who are you?" Damen asked again as he raised his sword.

"A friend," The voice said, "A guide."

+

Laurent dragged his hand along the side of the cave wall. The voice encouraged him to continue.

There was a loud crunch under his boot. He lifted his foot and stepped back, holding his torch down to see what was below. He crouched down beside it while the voice hissed at him to get up and continue.

His fingertips brushed over what he realized a moment later was a bone.

+

The sword was there, at the center of a wide open cavern. It was large, Damen could tell by the two-handed hilt, but the blade was mostly buried into the rock at the center of the cavern. All around it, shadows danced. The blade seemed to glow in the darkness. Damen quickened his pace.

"Take it," The voice hissed.

Something was wrong, Damen thought to himself. He approached the sword anyway.

+

Laurent looked up a bit, and his eyes fell on a human skull. He snapped to his feet and stumbled back a few steps.

When he moved to put his hand back on the wall, it was not there. He was standing in a wide cavern.

"Goodbye, little dragonlord," The voice whispered.

Laurent saw the world spin before his vision went black.

+

Damen sheathed his own sword and wrapped his hands around the long hilt of the enchanted one.

Images flashed in front of his eyes. Dragons, swordfights, blood. The images were gone before he could think to let go of the sword. He heard a dull noise behind him and turned.

"Laurent?" He asked the figure crumpled on the ground. He got no answer.

+

It was Auguste's hands around his throat again. Laurent was frozen. Some part of him was screaming that it wasn't real, but a larger part was paralyzed by the fact that it _was_.

He couldn't breathe or move or see.

+

"Laurent?" Damen hurried over to crouch beside him. Laurent's eyes had rolled back, and his body was limp. He didn't seem to be breathing.

Panic shot through Damen. As soon as he touched Laurent's arm, Laurent snapped to reality. He blinked a few times. "Are you okay?"

Laurent said, somewhat strained, "Just get the sword."

Damen rose to his feet and turned back to the sword. He could hear Laurent's sharp, uneven breaths behind him as he again approached it.

Again, violent images passed through his head the moment he touched the sword. Fire and blood. Carnage. The Empire falling. When the images cleared, Damen took a deep breath. He pulled upwards on the sword, and it slid from the rock slowly, one inch at a time. It took all his strength to wretch it free.

Once he held it, he was surprised by its lightness. A sword of this caliber should be difficult to lift, but it was light and well-balanced in his hands. A few practice swings, and he was comfortable holding it. He turned back to see Laurent.

"Strike him down," The voice hissed, and Damen shuddered. He shook his head, and the voice insisted, "He is false. The dragons are your birthright, not his. The Emperor is your blood, not his. Strike him down and claim your title."

Damen looked to Laurent, still on the ground heaving for breath and curling his legs closer to his chest.

"No," Damen murmured.

"Do it," The voice shouted so loudly, Damen flinched. Laurent didn't appear to hear it.

"I won't."

An invisible force knocked him to the ground. Pitch black, transparent hands clawed at him. He tried to shake the shadow off, but his hands passed right through it.

Again flashes of the past raced through Damen's mind, rendering him nearly immobile. The Emperor dying. Dragons falling from the sky, dragons burning entire cities until nothing but ash and rubble remained. Wreckage. The sun beating down on the battlefield.

The shadow was screaming at him. Its words slipped into different languages, only some of which Damen recognized. The majority were old, ancient versions of language that had not been around in centuries.

Damen felt the hum of magic that Laurent had mentioned earlier. It grated at his ears. It clawed down his throat and threatened to suffocate him.

The shadow shrieked and flared before melting into the ground. Behind it, Laurent was holding Damen's sword, the un-enchanted one.

"Are you okay?" Laurent asked. He was holding Damen's sword with two hands. It was not meant for that. Clearly the weight of it was more than Laurent was used to.

"Look at that," Damen laughed to himself, "You do care."

Laurent knit his brow and jumped forward as Damen's vision faded.

+

When he woke up, his cloak was draped around him like a blanket. He struggled to sit up, his ears still ringing and his head feeling as if it had been stuffed with cotton. He was still in the cave, though it was silent now.

Laurent was a few meters away, tucked into himself. He was sitting as if he had been taking watch when he'd dozed off. Damen's sword was lying easily within reach of Laurent, and the enchanted sword was propped up beside Damen. He sat up and reached for it.

Again, when he touched it, it sent a violent chill down his spine. Images flashed across his eyelids that he could not make sense of-- dragons, combat, blood. They left as quickly as they had come. Damen traced his fingers along the flat of the blade, and it seemed to pulsate with energy like a heartbeat. He looked up sharply when he heard mumbling.

The sound was just Laurent muttering in his sleep. The words were too soft to make out, and they might have been in Patran. Asleep, he looked gentler. His sharp eyes were closed and his face was perfectly relaxed. His breathing was even, in and out through his nose.

Damen got up quietly, collected his cloak, and moved over to Laurent. Gently, he shook Laurent by the shoulder and murmured, "Come on. Let's get out of this cave."

Laurent blinked awake and yawned. Damen found himself smiling.

"You saved my life," Damen said.

Laurent took the hand Damen offered to help him to his feet and replied, "Well I still need you, don't I?"

"Of course," Damen shook his head, still smiling, then he said a bit more seriously, "The cave doesn't like you much."

"I figured, when it tried to kill me."

Damen said, "You should have gone outside. I would have come to find you."

After a second, Laurent shrugged and said, "I didn't want to leave you here. And I could not exactly carry you."

Damen just smiled.

Laurent hefted up Damen's sword with some effort, and Damen quickly said, "I can carry it."

"You have the enchanted sword," Laurent argued.

Smirking, Damen replied, "I think I can handle both of them, sweetheart."

Laurent shot him a scathing look, and Damen tried not to laugh. He reached over and took the sword from Laurent's hands and returned it to his sheath. The enchanted sword hung in his other hand.

"It is very light. I can hardly believe it," Damen told him, setting the enchanted sword across his hands. Laurent peered over at it.

"Can I?" Laurent asked, and Damen hesitated. He thought to the visions that flooded his vision every time he touched it.

"I suppose," He said carefully, but Laurent was already moving to take the sword. He shifted the sword from Damen's hands into his own without flinching. Damen realized that whatever the visions were, Laurent could not see them.

Laurent tested the weight in his hands, then pressed the tip of his finger to the point of the sword. Damen instinctively muttered, "Careful," but Laurent drew his finger away once he was satisfied with the blade's sharpness. He looked up at Damen and said, "It's dragonfire."

"Sorry?"

"It was forged in dragonfire," Laurent said, holding out the sword for Damen to take. Again, the visions flashed in front of Damen's eyes. Laurent was still rambling, "I've done it a few times, in Arles. It makes a sturdier and lighter sword, the metal can be folded more. The blacksmith said the dragonfire melts steel down until it's basically molten lava."

" _You_ have done it?" Damen arched a brow.

Laurent nodded, "I'm the only one who can get close to it while it's that hot. Our blacksmith taught me some basics on a regular forge. I just shape the metal, they do all the hard work. We made one for--" Laurent cut off sharply, then continued a second later, "--for Auguste."

Damen nodded. He could see the hurt on Laurent's face, so he was quiet for a moment to let him recover before speaking again.

"Well then," Damen said, "I think it's time we break the curse."

Laurent looked up at him with big eyes. He just nodded.

They began toward the cave entrance in silence. Damen could see the tension in Laurent's shoulders, but he didn't pry.

The rushing of the waterfall came back into earshot, and the light was nearly blinding. Damen had to blink heavily a few times before his eyes stopped burning.

They walked back down toward the valley, where the dragons were restlessly wrestling.

"Damen?"

Damen glanced over.

Laurent had his arms drawn tight around himself, "Thank you. For all this."

"Of course," Damen nodded. _Anything_ , he didn't say.

Laurent shifted his weight between his feet and said, "I probably should not have threatened your entire kingdom."

Damen said, "I'll agree on that."

Laurent shivered, and Damen again draped his cloak around Laurent's shoulders.

"If this doesn't work--"

"Don't--"

"If it doesn't," Laurent said more firmly. He paused for a moment, then said, "I won't act on Akielos. I swear it." He extended his hand, and Damen shook it. A Veretian pact, he knew.

Laurent stood up on his tip-toes and pressed a quick kiss to Damen's cheek. He was walking away very fast before Damen could even register it.

"Loki!" He shouted, and both dragons moved to meet him. Damen followed quickly, blushing and trying not to smile like a fool.

Loki nudged Laurent with his snout, and Laurent had to take a few steps back so as not to fall over. He laughed openly and pet Loki's nose. Excitement and anxiety were radiating off him.

"Okay," Laurent looked from Loki to Eaporia and said, "Let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> laurent is like a lizard, basically. 
> 
> thanks so much for reading :) Hope you enjoyed this long update! Lmk what you think <3


	6. five

The enchanted blade glinted in Damen's hand. He tilted it from side to side to watch the light catch across the gleaming surface. Laurent, a few meters away, was humming a tune to his dragons too softly for Damen to make out, but just loudly enough that it made him smile. 

"Are you ready to leave?" Laurent asked, pulling Damen from his thoughts.

Damen hesitated.

"The voice in the cave," Damen said, "Do you know who it was?" 

Laurent shook his head, "Probably an old dragonrider. A trapped spirit."

"It told me--" Damen hesitated, glancing over Laurent, then said, "It said the dragons were my birthright." 

Laurent tensed immediately. He looked sharply into Damen's eyes, and Damen could see his defensiveness even before he heard it in Laurent's voice. Laurent said slowly, carefully, "And what do you think of that?" 

"I disagree," Damen eyes Eaporia and Loki, "I would not have bonded with them the way you did. I could not do the things you have done."

"You could have," Laurent replied, still seeming cautious but marginally more relaxed, "If the gods had chosen you, you could have. But they did not." 

"I know." 

"They are _mine_ ," Laurent's voice was firm.

"I know," Damen caught Laurent by the shoulders and held him gently, "I am not trying to take them from you."

"You had better not be," Laurent replied, though he did not shove Damen away. He seemed to sink a bit into Damen's touch. He was silent for a moment longer, then shook his head and said, "I am being harsh. I know you did not mean to imply that. Please go on."

"I just found it odd, is all," Damen said, "You are not kingsblood. Your lineage is new royalty compared to mine. I have to wonder what it means that you were chosen to be the bearer of dragons, not someone else." 

Again defensiveness flared in Laurent's eyes, but Damen saw him reel it back. Laurent took a sharp breath and released it, then met Damen's eyes to say, "I wonder the same. It is strange, being the only one. I know that I must be a dragonrider for a reason, but I cannot figure it out. It bothers me sometimes." 

"Sometimes?" Damen figured someone with Laurent's sharp mind would constantly be picking apart this phenomenon.

"Other times I am just glad that it's me and not someone else," Laurent replied, "My dragons are precious to me. They're an extension of my soul. They have defended me. I don't know what I would be without them." 

"You would still be clever," Damen said automatically, "and ambitious and determined. And beautiful." 

Laurent didn't meet his eyes. 

"We should go," Laurent said.

Damen nodded.

+

Arles was quiet. All the doors were shut and windows shuttered. The palace was just as Damen remembered when he had been here as a child. Tall, white-washed walls and sprawling grounds dotted with little buildings and colorful gardens. The stillness made it eerie.

There was a dragon curled around the highest tower. Its long, serpentine body wound in tight coils. Its scales were an iridescent black that gleamed different colors when it caught the light. Curling horns crowned its head. 

"That's Hennik," Laurent said with a small nod. Damen could hardly hear him over the wind. He shouted, "He's my biggest."

Hennik was indeed the biggest. Damen could only stare. Even compared to the other two dragons, Hennik was large. It was nearly impossible to equate this creature with the one Damen had seen years ago perched on a child Laurent's shoulder. The dragon detached from the tower to meet up with Laurent.

They landed in the fields outside the palace. Laurent barely made it off his dragon before Hennik was moving to say hello.

"Hi," Laurent smiled as Hennik bumped him with his snout, "Did you miss me?" Hennik snorted his answer, and Laurent could not stop the little laugh that escaped him. He petted Hennik's head and smiled.

"Laurent," Damen said. Laurent's head snapped around to look at him. His expression became more hardened. 

"Yes," Laurent nodded, then looked back at Hennik, "Have you kept Auguste safe?" Hennik bared his teeth, and Laurent nodded as he said softly, "Thank you." 

Hennik pressed his head against Laurent, and Laurent rubbed Hennik's cheek. Damen felt as if he were intruding on their reunion. 

"Your Highness!" 

Laurent and Damen turned to meet the man approaching them-- a knight in his armor, his hand on the hilt of his sword and his eyes darting up Damen's body, sizing him up. Damen wanted to laugh. As if the three dragons were not enough to protect Laurent. 

"Jord," Laurent said to the man approaching them, "let me introduce you to King Damianos of Akielos. He has agreed to help us." 

Jord bowed to Damen and said, "Vere thanks you, your Grace." 

"It is an honor to be at Vere's service," Damen replied. He hoped he did not sound too eager, but the truth of it was that he would probably agree to kill a hundred more men if Laurent needed.

Laurent began to follow Jord back into the palace. He asked in a softer, more casual voice, "Is there any development with Auguste?" 

Jord glanced to the tower Hennik had been guarding and shook his head, "Nothing good, your Highness." 

"I want to see him."

"I know, but it's better you do that after the curse has lifted," Jord said a bit too informally, then he glanced to Damen and quickly added, "your Highness." 

"Fine," Laurent said a bit impatiently, "Tell the guards to prepare the grounds for the execution."

"Of course, your Highness," Then Jord paused for a long moment, lowered his voice to say, "You are half-dressed." 

Laurent replied easily, "Dragonfire." 

"I see," Jord glanced from Laurent to Damen so quickly, Damen would have missed it if he had been paying any less attention. 

"Jord," Laurent scowled, because apparently he had not missed it, either. His cheeks were turning pink, "I gave you a task. Please go." 

Jord bowed quickly as he made his exit.

"I'm going to get dressed," Laurent said, his cheeks still flushed. A servant girl followed him with her eyes for longer than was casual. He said, "I'll show you to the guest chambers first, though."

"You go, I'll be fine," Damen replied.

Laurent paused to look at Damen for a long minute, then said, "I will see you outside with my uncle in ten minutes." 

Damen watched him leave. The enchanted sword hung at his side, tucked precariously into his belt to keep his hands free. He turned uncertainly toward the way they came and made his way back outside. His mind was racing. Arles held the same odd heaviness in the air that he'd felt in the mountains. Magic hung like humidity all around him. 

Damen ventured into the courtyards. There was a stone path leading up to the pavilion, which was surrounded by hedges and flowers. Colors bloomed all around him. Damen nearly went over and picked a dark blue flower, but he stopped himself. He had been thinking of how it had would look in Laurent's hair. 

Hennik had retaken his position curled around the tower, keeping his sharp eyes watching over the grounds below. His talons dug into the bricks. In the fields beyond the courtyard, Eaporia was slinking back and forth. Tension held her body unnaturally rigid. Above her, Loki was flying in figure eights.

The doors behind him opened again, and Damen turned at the sound. Four guards were holding the prisoner between them. There was dried blood on his bottom lip, and his eyes were half-crazed. Jord walked a few feet in front of them. He made eye contact with Damen and frowned. 

Jord stopped in front of Damen and bowed, "Your Grace." 

"My Lord," Damen replied.

"I would like to again thank you for your service to Vere. And for bringing Prince Laurent back in one piece," Jord said a bit stiffly.

"I'm sure Prince Laurent is capable of remaining in one piece regardless of my involvement," Damen arched a brow, "but you are welcome. I am glad to help." 

"He has been..." Jord shook his head, "I should not be speaking about him without him here." 

Damen said gently, "I have no ill intent toward him." 

Jord just shook his head. 

"So," Damen changed the subject, "This is the spellcaster?" 

"Yes. Formerly Lord de Vere," Jord wrinkled his nose, "I will be glad when it is over."

"King Auguste," Damen trailed off. He wasn't sure what to say or why he had said anything at all. Finally, he arrived at saying: "Prince Laurent has been stressed. They are close, no?"

"Yes, your Grace," Jord said stiffly.

"I see." Damen nodded. Then he said, "You do not like me much." 

"Pardon me, your Grace. I've meant no disrespect," Jord drew back a bit in surprise, "It's only..."

Damen arched a brow.

"You brought Laurent back wearing considerably less than how he left," Jord said sharply, "I only hope you have not done him any dishonor."

"I would never," Damen replied. Then his cruel mind slipped into imagining the crook of Laurent's collarbone that stuck out from his thin undershirt. Damen quickly said, "We ran into some trouble. His dragons took care of it, but alas, his clothing did not share his immunity to fire."

Jord just grunted. 

The doors opened again, and Laurent strolled through. He was dressed in tightly laced traditional Veretian garb. The dark green fabric was a bit thicker than was necessary for the weather. Laurent did not look at his uncle as he approached and bowed just slightly to Damen.

"Your Grace," He said, "whenever you're ready." 

"Laurent, my sweet child," His uncle called with a smile. Laurent huffed as he turned to face his uncle, his expression stoic and unreadable. This only seemed to amuse the former lord de Vere, who said, "I have been hoping I would get to see you again." 

"Just this last time," Laurent replied flatly, "so I hope you enjoy it." 

"Oh I will," His uncle tilted his head and watched Laurent in a way that made Damen shift to put himself between the two of them. This didn't seem to affect the former lord. He said, "I have been waiting for you to come back. You were faster than I thought you would be, but don't worry your pretty head, I am ready for you."

Jord moved a bit closer, his hand on the hilt of his sword and ready to draw.

"Come now, you didn't think I used my only trick on your brother, did you?" The lord laughed a bit, then said, "No. I have plans for you, too." 

"Shame you will not get to show us," Damen said sharply. He drew the enchanted sword and stepped forward. His only thoughts were of keeping the lord far away from Laurent.

"King Damianos, my apologies for not greeting you properly," The lord said with a little laugh, "I have something for you, too."

"Do it now, Damen," Laurent hissed. Upon hearing the nickname, Jord's eyes narrowed, and he shot Damen a harsh look.

But the lord was already rubbing his own dried blood between his fingers and muttering under his breath. The already magic-charged air was becoming heavier, and Damen lurched forward quickly, raising the sword to strike. He did not get there before the earth below began to shake. He lost his footing and took only a moment to recover, but it was a moment too long.

All of the guards had drawn their swords and turned on each other. One of them lunged at Laurent, but Damen shoved him out of the way just in time. He stopped himself just short of gutting the guard, remembering that they were under a curse. He settled for incapacitating the man, then turning briefly over his shoulder to check that Laurent was alright.

In a matter of seconds, Eaporia was landing on the ground beside Laurent and snarling at the cursed.

One of the guards slashed another's throat. 

The air heated as the Eaporia inhaled, ready to spit fire. Laurent said some quick words to stop her.

"Damen!" He shouted, "Do it!"

Damen turned back to Lord de Vere.

Two of the guards were preoccupied in a fight, and Jord disposed of another. When he turned his eyes to Damen, Damen saw that they had changed. They were glazed and wild. 

Damen lunged toward Lord de Vere, who scrambled back. Loki landed beside him, and the impact of the landing shook Damen's footing, but not enough that he quite fell. He lifted the enchanted sword and readied his stance to bring it through the former lord's heart.

Then sharp pain cut through his side, and he hit the ground before he realized he was falling.

When his vision cleared, he saw Jord standing over him with a bloodied blade. Jord raised his sword again, but dropped it when Laurent hit him from behind with a loose stone. Damen tried to get up again, but stopped when pain shot up his side.

Not a second later, Laurent was on his knees beside him, pressing his hands down on the wound. Blood trickled between his fingers and stained the white of Damen's chiton. Laurent's voice came out shaky, "Damen?"

"I'm fine," Damen promised through gritted teeth, "It's fine." 

"You're fucking bleeding out," Laurent snapped. Another of the guards turned on him, but Eaporia blocked his path, snarling loudly. 

Damen's vision went white as he tried to sit up, and it remained fuzzy when Laurent pushed him to lie back down.

"Not how you thought it would go, is it, child?" Lord de Vere laughed. He was making no effort to escape. Even the heat from Eaporia seemed not to bother him; he was already too drunk on his victory to be afraid. He continued, "Poor thing. You should have let Auguste kill you. Then no one else would have had to die."

There was visible panic on Laurent's face. He looked even paler than usual, and his breathing was uneven and forced. Eaporia clung close to him, warding off anyone who tried to make an attack. She nudged him without much of her usual gentleness, clearly trying to get him to leave with her. Laurent stayed put.

Damen took his hand tightly and said, "You have to do it." 

Laurent just wretched his hand free and returned it to keeping pressure on Damen's wound. His hands were slick with blood, but he held them steady, "You know that I can't."

Damen lifted his head with some effort and kissed Laurent squarely on the lips. He drew away almost immediately, distantly aware that the blood loss was making him dizzy and delirious. Laurent was shock-still, his eyes big and his mouth slightly agape.

"Finish it," Damen said, pressing the hilt of the sword into Laurent's hands. Laurent blinked, then looked down at the sword.

"I can't--"

Damen guided Laurent's fingers to curl around the hilt, "You have to."

"I don't have kingsblood," Laurent argued, his eyes darting over Damen's face. He darted his hand out quickly to brush a stray curl out of Damen's face.

The hilt and Laurent's palm were both crimson.

Damen shoved him back toward the lord as hard as he could and said, "Yes, you do." 

Laurent stumbled to his feet, his brow drawn together, then shook his head, "If it doesn't work, then--" 

"It _will_."

Laurent hesitated a moment longer, then gave a stiff nod. Determination crossed his features.

Damen set his head down and stared up at the sky. He could hear the dragons roaring and snarling, but his vision was fuzzy. He pushed down on his wound, which was warm with blood.

Laurent approached his uncle, his dragons moving to his either side.

"Laurent, my sweet," His uncle said with a smile, "are you really so stupid to think that this will work? A silly little loophole in a curse older than dragons?" 

"Magic is a funny thing," Was all he said in reply. He raised the enchanted sword. 

His uncle must have seen it in his eyes that he was not going to back down, because Lord de Vere's expression fell from amusement and into a cold panic as he said, "Laurent--" 

He did not get to finish his sentence before Laurent brought the sword in a carefully controlled arc across his uncle's throat. Lord de Vere fell dead unceremoniously.

For a moment, nothing special happened, and panic shot through Laurent's body. Had he ruined it? 

Then everything went very still. The fighting soldiers dropped their weapons and stared blankly at each other, as if they could not remember where they were. The thick magic in the air dissipated, and Laurent took the first deep breath he had taken in a very long time. He exhaled slowly.

"Orlant, Lazar," He said as evenly as he could manage, and the soldiers started at his voice, then quickly fell into low bows, "Get King Damianos to Paschal as quickly as you can. I'll be there as soon as--"

"Go," Damen's voice was too fragile, but he forced himself to speak louder, "Go to your brother. I will be fine." 

"I'll be back, I promise," Laurent said with a quick nod, and Damen smiled.

"Go." 

+

Hennik was waiting for Laurent at the tower. He snorted and lowered himself down when he saw Laurent approaching, and Laurent petted his snout.

"Any change, do you think?" He asked, and Hennik bumped him lightly on the head. Laurent took a deep breath and said, "Okay. Let me up, then." 

Hennik lowered his head so Laurent could climb onto his back, then lifted his head again to bring Laurent to the window, which Laurent slipped through as quietly as he could. If the curse was not broken-- if he had failed-- he was not sure what he would do. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he imagined it. Two of his guards were dead, and Damen was hurt. If he had put their lives in danger-- _Damen's life especially_ , he thought selfishly-- for nothing, he would never forgive himself.

"Auguste?" He asked. It was bright with sunlight, but the shadows were dark. He couldn't tell if Auguste was looking at him or not.

"Lo?" 

Auguste was pushing himself to sit up straight. His eyes were a bit wild and his body sagged with fatigue. Laurent stood tense for a long moment, scanning his brother's face for any residual signs of the curse.

"Laurent," Auguste said when his eyes settled on Laurent. His face broke, and he murmured, "Gods, what did I do?" 

Relief flooded Laurent so intensely, he thought he might start crying.

Laurent ran forward and dropped to his knees to hug his brother. Auguste met him immediately, curling his arms around Laurent and holding him gently. Auguste set a hand on the back of Laurent's head and squeezed him once more before releasing him. 

"I hurt you," Auguste murmured, lifting his hand to cup Laurent's face. His eyes were full of pain and his brows drawn close together. His lips curled with disgust as he said, "I tried to kill you." 

Laurent shook his head, "It wasn't you." 

"I couldn't control it," Auguste looked exasperated, "Lo, I would never--" 

"I know," Laurent assured him, "I know, and it's okay." 

"Uncle," Auguste's eyes became wild with anger, "He did this. Where is he?" 

"Dead," Laurent answered. His eyes darted to the blood on his sleeve as he said, "I... I did it. I killed him."

Auguste's expression turned gentle, "I'm sorry. I should have done it years ago. Banishment was not enough, I should have executed him. Then you would not have had to do it yourself."

Laurent just shook his head, "It is done now."

"I don't understand how you did it," Auguste shook his head, "Magic is a lost art, no one knows it." 

"It wasn't me, really," Laurent shrugged, "I... I had help. I went to Akielos." 

This seemed to dissipate all his fatigue. His shoulders straightened, and his eyes became sharp and alert.

" _What_?" 

"I brought Eaporia and Loki; I was perfectly safe, so you don't have to--"

"You _know_ \--" Auguste closed his eyes and shook his head wildly, "You _know_ how the Akielons feel about your dragons. We have talked about this. The world is not ready for a new age of dragons, not yet, and you know that. You _know_ how dangerous it is. Did you take any guards with you?" 

"Auguste," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"Unbelievable," Auguste huffed, "You should not have done that. What if they had killed you?"

"They would have had to get through two grown dragons," Laurent reminded his brother, but Auguste waved it away.

"They are not invincible, either. Dragons have died before. Dragonriders have died before, shot down while on the back of their dragons. No one is beyond reach," Auguste gave him a harsh look, "You know that. You should not have done something so stupid, not for me."

"I didn't quite have a choice," Laurent snapped.

"You could have taken guards-- Gods, Laurent," Auguste shook his head in frustration, "Next time you think of going to Akeilos on your own, I will be there to stop you."

"It was not so bad. King Damianos was glad to help," Laurent insisted, though in his mind, he remembered Damen pulling him close and holding a knife against his throat, "He is very... uh, he's very kind. And gentle. He didn't do me any harm. He vouched for me with his fellow Akielons." 

Auguste rolled his eyes, "You cannot be serious. He is an Akielon. His father said you were unnatural."

Laurent remembered. At the time, he had been thirteen, and even though Auguste tried to shield him from the rumors that the Akielon king thought him to be a monstrosity, it eventually got back to Laurent's ears. He had not taken it as an offense, really. He had laughed at it and told his dragons, who seemed to take it more harshly than he did.

"Damianos is hurt," Laurent said suddenly. He shook his head, "It's my fault." 

Auguste looked up wildly, "You brought him _here_?" 

"He saved your life. I would not have been able to break the curse without his help," Laurent said a bit more sharply than he had meant it to be. 

Auguste frowned, and quickly Laurent stood and brushed himself off. He knew if he let Auguste prompt him for any longer, he would end up revealing something he would rather his brother not know quite yet.

"Laurent--"

"Let's go," Laurent said, "You should eat something. And you should rest."

"Laurent," Auguste said just a bit more firmly. The tiredness had returned to his eyes, and Laurent could see clearly the damage that the time had done to his brother. Auguste said, "You're hiding something from me." 

"We can talk later. After you are up for it," Laurent shook his head and moved to help Auguste stand. 

"Tell me about Damianos," Auguste pressed, and Laurent huffed an annoyed breath. 

His own stubbornness was not really his at all. It was genetic, and his brother had it, too. So Laurent conceded only because he knew he would not get Auguste to abandon the subject until Laurent agreed to talk about it.

"Damianos is very nice, And he is strong and charming," Laurent said, then a bit hesitantly, "and he is quite handsome." 

Auguste replied with a less than amused remark of, "I see." 

+

When Damen woke, Laurent was at his bedside, curled into his chair.

"Hello," Damen said lightly, reaching out to take his hand.

Laurent propped his head up on his free hand and said, "Hi." His eyes were wide and wild, darting across Damen's face in search of any sign of pain.

"Don't look at me like I am some delicate thing," Damen said with a smile, "I am going to be fine. It was not so bad an injury." 

"You were run completely through. You could have died," Laurent said with a little scowl and a shake of his head, "I swear, you are so annoying."

"Ah," Damen chuckled, and the effort made his side hurt, "you were worried about me." 

"Oh, shut up." 

"You are so precious when you are worried," Damen said, grinning like an idiot.

Laurent flushed and adverted his eyes, "You are drugged. You're saying nonsense." 

"Am I?" 

Damen stared at Laurent's face: the delicate slope of his lips and the harsh lines of his jaw and nose. Damen followed the lines of his cheekbones and the fall of his blond hair. Laurent curled closer in on himself and regarded Damen warily.

"You're upset," Damen noticed, "Has something happened?" 

"You got stabbed, if you forgot," Laurent replied with an arch of his brow, "Two of the guards are dead, and I gave Jord a concussion. So things could be better." 

"That's not it," Damen said. He was not sure how he knew, but he felt it. There was something not entirely genuine about the way Laurent was talking. Something too disconnected about his words to be his real emotions.

Laurent was quiet for a long moment, then said, "All I needed was your blood. I could've left you in Akielos. That way, you would not have been hurt." 

Damen grunted, shifted to a more comfortable position, then said, "Ah, but then you wouldn't have had the pleasure of my company."

Laurent just hummed a noncommittal reply and fell silent, staring blankly at Damen's injured side.

"Hey," Damen reached over and took his hand, "this isn't your fault." 

"I did force you to come here." 

"Lucky you did. You would never have found the sword if not for me. Or made it out of that cave, for that matter," Damen reminded him. He dropped Laurent's hand only for a second to brush the hair out of Laurent's face, then took his hand again.

"You've done too much for me. More than I deserved," Laurent said slowly as he lifted his eyes to meet Damen's.

"No," Damen argued, "I would do it all again. A thousand times, I would do it all again."

"A thousand?" Laurent arched his brows, just a tiny hint of amusement peeking out of his expression, "That's a lot."

"Well, maybe I've lost too much blood. I've forgotten how big numbers are."

Laurent's eyes narrowed with concern again, and Damen lifted his hand to run through Laurent's hair to calm him down again. It was soft. He could have spent hours, just running his fingers through Laurent's hair. 

"A joke," Damen assured him, "In poor taste, maybe." 

Laurent was quiet for a bit. His thumb dragged back and forth over Damen's hand.

"You kissed me," Laurent finally said, "Why?"

"I should not have done that," Damen said. Laurent's lips down-turned slightly, and Damen hurried to explain himself, "It was wrong of me to force myself on you like that. I should have asked."

"I would have said yes," Laurent said, then quickly adverted his eyes, "if you were curious."

"Is that right?" Damen felt a smirk quirk at his lips. 

"Shut up," Laurent muttered in reply, and Damen openly laughed.

"And if I asked again?" Damen asked.

Laurent buried his head in his hands, "Don't do this." 

"Do what?" 

"Don't--" Laurent shook his head, "--toy with me."

"I don't toy with you," Damen replied.

Laurent just murmured, "I have no defenses. It isn't fair." 

"Laurent," Damen drawled, reaching out to pull his hands away from his face, "can I kiss you now?" 

Laurent paused for so long, Damen nearly drew away. He thought perhaps he had crossed a line. Laurent had been full of adrenaline before, and perhaps his inhibitions had been too low. A kiss then was not the same as a kiss now, when he was fully lucid and in control.

Then Laurent nodded and said, "Yes." 

So Damen did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ft. Laurent's Mom friend, Jord
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Just one more part left :)


	7. epilogue: seven months later

Admittedly, Damen had gotten a little bold with his most recent letter. Something about "when I look out at the sea, I can think only of your eyes" and "I am reminded of your beauty every night at the hearth, watching the flames." At time time, he had thought it was poetic and wonderful, but now as he approached the palace in Arles, he wondered if it was too much.

King Auguste greeted the Akielon party at the gates. He looked different than the last time Damen saw him-- his head was held high, his hair clean and brushed, his clothes neatly pressed and without flaw. The crown on his head was worn with easy confidence. 

"Your Grace," King Auguste said as Damen approached, "Vere welcomes you once again. And I would like to express my personal gratitude for your visit." 

Damen bowed his head just slightly, as much as was respectable between kings, "Of course, your Grace. I am glad to be back under much better circumstances." He glanced to the side. Laurent was not there. 

Yes, perhaps his last letter was too much. 

"Please, come inside," Auguste stood to the side so Damen could enter. Behind them, the rest of the Akielon party followed. In a lower voice, Auguste leaned over and said, "If I might be candid, my brother has been very excited to see you again. I think he has been counting the days."

"Really?" Relief flooded over Damen.

"Oh, he would never admit to it," Auguste said with a little laugh, "but I can tell." 

It was difficult to equate the man in front of him to the man Damen had met briefly when breaking the curse. He was strong-built and clearly a capable soldier. He carried himself like he was without fear, with arrow-straight posture and an even stride. He resembled Laurent in a more masculine way-- they shared the same angular features and strong bone structure, but Laurent was more androgynous than his brother. Auguste was broad where Laurent was lithe. 

"I'll show your men to their quarters," King Auguste said, smiling, "Laurent is in the library. Jord can show you." 

Damen tried not to show his embarrassment. He said, "Thank you, your Grace."

He split away from the rest of the group and slipped out the side doors. 

The library had a balcony that overlooked the wide field spread out for acres. Laurent was sitting on a cushion by the railing, where Hennik had his head propped up and his eyes closed. When Damen looked up, he could see Loki circling and twisting, making swirling patterns in the sky. He could not fight the smile that came across his face.

"Laurent?" Damen called.

Hennik opened his double eyelids and watched Damen approach. Laurent marked his place, set his book aside, and got gracefully to his feet. He said some gentle words to Hennik, who never took his eyes off Damen. Hesitantly, Damen smiled to the dragon. He wasn't sure what else to do.

"King Damianos," Laurent said in greeting. A smile spread across his face as he said, "It is nice to see you again. Don't you think so, Hennik?" Hennik replied with a pleased snort.

"It is good to see you, too. All of you." 

Laurent arched a brow, amusement all over his face. He laughed a bit as he asked, "Did you miss us?" Hennik tilted his head, seeming to share in Laurent's humor. 

Damen sensed where this was going and said, "Laurent." 

"How much did you miss us?" Laurent's smile spread into something wicked, "Enough to fantasize about my hair in the moonlight?" Hennik curled closer to Laurent and nudged his shoulder very lightly. Laurent lifted his hand to pet his snout, and Hennik relaxed into his touch.

Too bold indeed.

"It is possible," Damen said slowly, "that I got a little carried away." 

Laurent's smile slipped away. He stepped forward until he was only a few inches from Damen, then asked, "Really? That's disappointing. Here I was thinking you wanted me." 

"I do," Damen said immediately, "Endlessly." 

Laurent's smile returned. He quirked his brow and said, "I will keep that in mind." 

The playfulness was new, now that the stress was gone. Damen liked it. He wanted to see more of it, every day.

"You look lovely," Damen said. It was true. Laurent was wearing a rich blue that contrasted with his skin tone, and his hair was a little bit messy from the wind and from his dragons. 

"Why thank you, your Grace," Laurent gave a dramatic bow, "As do you." 

Damen laughed, "Thank you, your Highness." 

He began to move closer, but Hennik was eyeing him, so he stopped. The dragon's sharp canines were visible even when his mouth was closed, and Damen took a small step back. There was a look of humor on Laurent's face when Damen turned back to him.

"Might we step inside for a moment?" Damen asked, "I would like to speak in private." 

Laurent obliged, and the two of them stepped off the balcony and into the library. When they were safely out of Hennik's sight, Damen backed Laurent against a shelf and tipped his chin up with one finger.

"Do you still want me?" Damen breathed, "As I do you?" 

Laurent, already breathless, murmured, "Yes." 

So Damen leaned down a bit to kiss him sweetly. Laurent met the kisses a bit clumsily-- his hands were uncertain and exploratory as they ran up Damen's sides, and his mouth was desperate. Damen smiled, pressed one last kiss to Laurent's cheek, then drew away.

A strange look darted across Laurent's face. Damen asked, "What?" 

"I have been thinking about what you said about the caves. About the dragons being your birthright, not mine," Laurent said. His voice was light and a bit distant. 

"That was stupid," Damen shook his head, "The gods chose you."

"I know," Laurent arched a brow, "but I think you're right, nonetheless. You have the blood of Emperor Eapor and his dragonriders. I don't. My entire life, I've been told my destiny is in Akielos. It would make sense if it was you who was originally supposed to be the dragonlord." 

Damen pressed, "It doesn't matter." 

"It does," Laurent argued, "because I think the gods intended for us to meet." 

Damen just looked at him, and Laurent's cheeks flushed pink.

"I have always been told I would find my destiny in Akielos," Laurent said slowly, not making eye contact until the end, and even then, he glanced aside quickly.

_Oh._

"Laurent--" 

"You don't have to say anything," Laurent shook his head quickly, "I may be horribly wrong."

"Come back to Akielos with me," Damen said immediately, taking both Laurent's hands and squeezing them, "You'll like it. It's warm all winter long." 

"Your people don't like me," Laurent reminded him, drawing away just slightly. 

"My people will learn that they are wrong," Damen said quickly, "They will love you." 

"I can't leave my dragons for an entire winter," Laurent shook his head, "Hennik gets restless without me. It is not... It's not so simple for me. I can't just leave."

"Take Hennik." 

Laurent snorted. 

"I am serious," Damen said with a nod, "Hennik can come. He might like it. It is his ancestral homeland, after all, and the birthplace of your magic. His species lived there for thousands of years, maybe some part of him will understand that. He can see the ocean." 

"It is..." Laurent shook his head, "It is a nice thought." 

"It is a real offer," Damen insisted.

"Your brother--" 

"My brother will not do you any harm. I will see to it. He is not so stupid to attack you unprompted."

Laurent was quiet for a moment, staring up at Damen so intently it seemed he was trying to memorize every detail in his face. Finally, Laurent said, "I want to. Very badly." 

"Good," Damen smiled, "Good, then we can begin planning--" 

"It would be improper," Laurent said with a quick shake of his head, "It would be a scandal." 

Damen knit his brow, "Why?" 

"Because we are not even courting. It is improper even now for us to be alone together," Laurent replied in earnest, and Damen had to stop himself from laughing. He had nearly forgotten how rigid and uptight Veretian customs were. Though, he had not quite expected Laurent to be so caught up with what was proper or not.

"Something else is bothering you," Damen said slowly. As soon as he had the thought, he realized it was true. Laurent's eyes darted, and he made no effort to explain himself. Damen said, "If you do not want to come, you are free to decline my offer." 

"That's not it. I do want to come," Laurent shook his head.

Before he could say anything else, his eyes darted to the door. Footsteps indicated that someone was approaching, so Laurent stepped out from his spot pressed against the bookshelf and carefully adjusted his clothes.

"We'll talk later," Damen said, and Laurent just nodded wordlessly.

+

It was not until dark that they had the chance to be alone together again.

Dinner had ended and the dessert course had begun, during which the nobles began mingling and dancing. Damen had stood immediately and gone to find Laurent, despite the heavy sighing from Nikandros as he left the table.

Laurent's eyes darted when he spotted Damen approaching, like he meant to evade but could not quite find an exit. Guilt built up in Damen's chest, and he slowed his approach to allow Laurent a moment to leave if he wanted. Auguste was standing beside his brother, talking and smiling and waving when he noticed Damen.

"King Damianos," Auguste said, "you are enjoying yourself, I hope?" 

"Of course, your Grace," Damen smiled, "It is uplifting to see Arles in such a lively state. Last I was here, things were grim." 

It was true. Arles was alive and vibrant and beautiful. It made Damen smile to imagine Laurent living in such a place, with so much color and excitement.

"If I may borrow your brother for just a moment, your Grace?" Damen glanced to Laurent, who put on a thin smile and bowed his head to Damen, then to his brother.

"Yes, yes," Auguste ushered his brother to follow Damen, then laughed to himself as he took a long sip of wine. The Veretian king easily slipped into conversation with the surrounding men, and their laughter filled the banquet hall and echoed across the high ceiling.

Laurent was quiet as the two of them stepped out into the hall, where it was quieter. 

Damen began, "I wanted to ask--"

"You're going to get bored of me," Laurent interrupted. He didn't meet Damen's eyes.

"What?" Damen knit his brow, "How do you mean?" 

"After you get over my dragons. After you realize that I am nothing special. I am not particularly sweet or... or sexually liberated. Once the novelty of it all wears off,," Laurent shrugged, "you'll get bored of me."

"I don't want you because of your dragons," Damen argued, then he pressed a chaste kiss to Laurent's lips and drew away quickly to say, "and I was not even considering sex when I asked you to come to Ios with me. I want you to come because I like you, Laurent." 

"You don't hardly know me," Laurent replied, and Damen seized him by the arms.

"I would very much like to," He longed to pull Laurent in for a kiss, but instead he said, "I think you were right, about us being destined to meet."

"That was just--" Laurent shook his head, looking a bit embarrassed, "That was silly of me." 

"I don't agree," Damen insisted, "I think we are meant to be with each other."

Laurent shifted. He drew a deep breath, then said, "If I were not a dragonrider, would you say the same?" 

Damen did not hesitate for a moment, "Yes." 

Laurent lifted his eyes to meet Damen's, "Why?" He said the question softly, like it were more of a confession than anything else. An admission that he did not understand what he was worth without his dragons. 

Damen did kiss him this time, just softly and on the forehead, and when he drew away he said, "Because. I think I love you."

Laurent was silent for a moment, but his cheeks flushed and his lips slipped into a smile that betrayed his feelings. He hid his eyes for a moment, then lifted his head again to meet Damen's eyes. He was trying to hide his smile, but Damen could see it in his eyes, which squinted just a bit when he was happy. Damen reveled in this detail. He wanted to memorize this expression.

"Okay," Laurent said with a little laugh. He shook his head and broke into a real smile, which he no longer was trying to hide, "Okay, fine. You have won me over. I will ask my brother to allow me a trip to Akielos come winter." 

"What do you think he will say?" Damen asked, glancing to the banquet hall doors. Somewhere on the other side, Auguste was mingling and completely unaware of this conversation. 

"I think he will permit it," Laurent said. His limbs had become more relaxed. He gave a little laugh as he said, "When I wanted to do things as a teenager, I would always preface by reminding him that he could not stop me. Not unless he was ready to take on three dragons. It used to make him so angry." 

Damen laughed, too. It was sweet, imagining a younger Laurent stirring up trouble.

"I used to pester my father into getting my way when I was a teenager," Damen said, "I imagine I would have been a little devil if I had three dragons to back me." 

Laurent's mood had perked up. He said, smiling like a schoolboy, "Tell me what we will do in Akielos."

So Damen did.

+

Laurent woke the next morning and smiled. Hennik was curled up on the yard outside his window, where he usually slept when there were strangers near the palace. He wandered to the balcony and stepped outside to wish him good morning. Eaporia was there too, and she immediately came to greet him. 

"Pretty day," He said lightly, and Eaporia snorted a response. Laurent smiled, "I will see you after breakfast, alright? If the Akielons come to look at you, do not harm them, alright? They are guests, not enemies." 

He gave Hennik a pointed look, and Hennik huffed. Smoke curled from his mouth, and Laurent sighed.

"They are Damianos' men. You like him well enough, and I like him quite a bit. You will have to extend your courtesy to his countrymen," Laurent said. Hennik just laid his head back down.

Laurent went back inside to ready himself for the day. He was nearly ready to leave for breakfast when there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," He said barely above his speaking voice, but the door was already opening.

"King Damianos has requested your presence at a counsel hearing this morning, your Highness. Best if we leave now. Your brother is waiting." Jord told him. 

Laurent fastened the laces around his wrist, "What sort of hearing?" 

"His Grace King Auguste did not say." Jord gestured for him to follow, "If you're ready, let's go." 

Laurent straightened his shoulders as he followed Jord. 

It was probably just a formal invitation to visit Akielos. That would be the most logical thing. Laurent had not gotten around to asking his brother the night before. He had spent the better part of the night sitting curled on a bench with Damen, talking. By the time he had realized how late it was, Auguste had already gone off to bed for the night.

Laurent slid into the counsel chambers and found his place at Auguste's right hand. Behind them, the counselors were sat waiting and muttering among themselves.

"You have not gotten yourself into any trouble with Akielos, have you?" Auguste whispered as he nodded to the plaintiff to allow Damianos inside.

"No. Why do you ask?" Laurent said defensively, though he remembered only a few short months ago when he arrived in Akielos and sacked the palace. It was not a ridiculous thought to imagine Damen would call for a punishment, though it was strange, considering how friendly they had gotten, that Damen had not brought it up to him.

No, that could not be the reason for the hearing. It had to be something else.

Auguste frowned at him, but he quickly changed his expression to something more neutral when Damen stepped inside the counsel chambers.

"King Damianos," Auguste said, and the counsel and Laurent all bowed, "you wish to bring something before my attention. Please, you have the floor." 

Damen smiled gently, and Laurent's heart fluttered. It always did when Damen smiled.

"Thank you, your Grace. It is very kind of you to hear me on such short notice," Damen glanced to Laurent, then quickly back to Auguste, "The matter at hand is a... personal one, of sorts."

"I see," Auguste said noncommittally. He was eyeing Damen carefully, and Laurent recognized the suspicion in his eyes. No matter the treaty, Akielos and Vere had been enemies for centuries. Auguste was well aware of this.

"I am asking for your blessing," Damen bowed low-- too low for a king, "I would like to court your brother, with your permission." 

Auguste's face went completely stone-still, and Laurent's drained of color. Behind him, Laurent could hear the counselors go completely silent for a moment, then begin chattering wildly. Auguste held up a hand to silence them, and Laurent was grateful for it.

"I see," Auguste said slowly. He straightened his shoulders, then glanced from Damen to Laurent and back again. Finally, he said, "My blessing is of no consequence, your Grace. My brother already has my blessing to enter any relationship he desires." 

Both of them turned expectantly to Laurent, who thought he might die on the spot.

Laurent straightened his shoulders and tipped his head back. His heart was thumping wildly, and he could barely breathe, but he was determined not to show it. He descended the steps to stand at the same level as Damen, and only when he was stopped in front of Damen did he say, "I would be honored." 

Damen's face broke into a wide smile. He took Laurent's hand and pressed a kiss to it, then said, "The honor is mine, your Highness." 

Laurent smiled, too. A tiny laugh escaped him. When he turned back around, his brother was eyeing him and smiling only slightly. 

"If I could have a moment of your time, Laurent," Auguste said. Then to Damen, he said, "Congratulations, your Grace. I will see to it that the kitchen prepares a special banquet tonight in honor of this arrangement." The counselors were whispering like schoolgirls, but Auguste silenced them with a lethal look.

Laurent bowed quickly to Damen and said, "I will see you at breakfast." 

Damen bowed as well, which was entirely improper given their ranks, then smoothly made his exit. The smile never left his lips.

Laurent rejoined his brother as the counselors were ushered out of the chambers. Only when they were alone did Auguste begin to speak.

"I was under the impression this was only a... a crush," Auguste said with a shake of his head, "I didn't realize it was so serious." 

"I really like him," Laurent admitted. He drew his arms tighter around himself, and Auguste smiled warmly.

"I see that now," He said, then shook his head, "but you need to be careful. You cannot be sure of his intentions, and--"

"Auguste," Laurent rolled his eyes.

"I am being serious. He could have an ulterior motive," Auguste held his hands up in defense when Laurent opened his mouth to argue and said quickly, "You are the only person in the world with dragons. I know you hate when I bring it up, but it is an important fact. He may want them for himself." 

"My dragons are capable of defending themselves," Laurent said, "They like him, too, and they are better judges of character than you are." 

"Harsh," Auguste said.

"It's true," Laurent nudged his brother lightly, and Auguste cracked a small smile.

"I suppose it is true," Auguste replied, "but I like to think I have decent judgement, for a human at least." 

Laurent rolled his eyes.

"It is within your power to dissolve the courtship, you know," Laurent said, a bit annoyed, "If you are that concerned, you could just--" 

"Lo," Auguste said flatly, "you know I won't do that to you. Not if this is something you truly want."

"Well then, you are going to have to give Damianos a chance." 

Auguste sighed very heavily at that. He regarded Laurent carefully, then very slowly took a deep breath and brought himself to say, "I suppose eventually I will have to let you go. You are not a child any longer, and it is high time I stop seeing you as one." 

Laurent softened. 

"I only want--" Auguste shook his head, "I want to protect you. I cannot stand to see you hurt."

"Damianos is good," Laurent said, and he was overwhelmed with the truth of it, "He is so good, Auguste, I can hardly believe he is real."

Auguste smiled, "I am glad."

"You will like him, if you let yourself. You won't if you keep looking at him like he has a knife against my throat," Laurent said, and Auguste laughed openly at that.

"Alright, little brother, I see you are confident in your choice. I will give him a chance," Then Auguste nudged him to the door and said, "Go to him. Don't let me keep you." 

Before he left, Laurent hugged his brother tightly. 

Then he hurried out the door to meet Damen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh this is the end! Hope you've enjoyed! :))


End file.
